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.-. MOONBEAMS .\ 
FROM THE LARGER LUNACY 



BY STEPHEN LEACOCK 

BEHIND THE BEYOND 
NONSENSE NOVELS 
LITERARY LAPSES 

SUNSHINE SKETCHES 

ARCADIAN 

ADVENTURES WITH 

THE IDLE RICH 

THE MARIONETTES' 

CALENDAR AND 

ENGAGEMENT BOOK 

1916 

With Drawings by A. H. Fish 



MOONBEAMS 

FROM THE 

LARGER LUNACY 



BY 


STEPHEN 


LEACOCK 


AUTHOR 


OF "nonsense novels," " 


ORCADIAN ADVENTURES WITH 


THE IDLE RICH," "BEHIND THE BEYOND," ETC. 



NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY 
LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD 
TORONTO: S. B. GUNDY: MCMXV 






Copyright, 1915, 
By John Lane Company 






Press of 

J. J. Little & Ives Company 

New York, U. S. A. 

©CI.A416089 

OCT 26 1915 



PREFACE 



The prudent husbandman, after having taken from 
his field all the straw that is there, rakes it over with 
a wooden rake and gets as much again. The wise 
child, after the lemonade jug is empty, takes the lemons 
from the bottom of it and squeezes them into a still 
larger brew. So does the sagacious author, after hav- 
ing sold his material to the magazines and been paid 
for it, clap it into book-covers and give it another 
squeeze. But in the present case the author is of a 
nice conscience and anxious to place responsibility 
where it is due. He therefore wishes to make all 
proper acknowledgments to the editors of Vanity 
Fair, The American Magazine, The Popular Magazine, 
Life, Puck, The Century, Methuen's Annual, and all 
others who are in any way implicated in the making 
of this book. 

Stephen Leacock. 
McGill University, 
Montreal. 
Oct. i, 1915. 



CONTENTS 



Chapter Page 

I Spoof: A Thousand-Guinea Novel ... n 

II The Reading Public 20 

III Afternoon Adventures at My Club . . 53 

1 — The Anecdotes of Dr. So and So . . 55 

2— The Shattered Health of Mr. Podge . 59 

3 — The Amazing Travels of Mr. Yarner . 66 

4 — The Spiritual Outlook of Mr. Doomer . 72 

5 — The Reminiscences of Mr. Apricot . 82 

6 — The Last Man Out of Europe ... 91 
7— The War Mania of Mr. Jinks and Mr. 

Blinks 102 

8 — The Ground Floor 112 

9 — The Hallucination of Mr. Butt . . 122 

IV Ram Spudd 135 

V Aristocratic Anecdotes 147 

VI Education Made Agreeable . . . . 155 

VII An E very-Day Experience 167 

VIII Truthful Oratory 173 

IX Our Literary Bureau 183 

X Speeding Up Business 195 

XI Who Is Also Who 209 

7 



Contents 



Chapter 

XII Passionate Paragraphs . . 

XIII Weejee the Pet Dog . . . 

XIV Sidelights on the Supermen 
XV The Survival of the Fittest 

XVI The First Newspaper . . 

XVII In the Good Time After the War 



Page 
217 
221 

229 
243 
253 
275 



SPOOF. A SAMPLE OF A 
THOUSAND-GUINEA NOVEL 



I.— Spoof. A Thousand- Guinea 
Novel. New ! Fascinating ! 
Perplexing I 

CHAPTER I 

READERS are requested to note that 
this novel has taken our special prize 
of a cheque for a thousand guineas. 
This alone guarantees for all intelli- 
gent readers a palpitating interest in every line 
of it. Among the thousands of MSS. which 
reached us — many of them coming in carts 
early in the morning, and moving in a dense 
phalanx, indistinguishable from the Covent 
Garden Market waggons; others pouring down 
our coal-chute during the working hours of 
the day; and others again being slipped sur- 
reptitiously into our letter-box by pale, timid 
girls, scarcely more than children, after night- 
fall (in fact many of them came in their night- 
gowns), — this manuscript alone was the sole 

ii 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

one — in fact the only one — to receive the 
prize of a cheque of a thousand guineas. To 
other competitors we may have given, inad- 
vertently perhaps, a bag of sovereigns or a 
string of pearls, but to this story alone is 
awarded the first prize by the unanimous deci- 
sion of our judges. 

When we say that the latter body included 
two members of the Cabinet, two Lords of the 
Admiralty, and two bishops, with power in 
case of dispute to send all the MSS. to the Czar 
of Russia, our readers will breathe a sigh of 
relief to learn that the decision was instant 
and unanimous. Each one of them, in reply 
to our telegram, answered immediately 
SPOOF. 

This novel represents the last word in up- 
to-date fiction. It is well known that the mod- 
ern novel has got far beyond the point of mere 
story-telling. The childish attempt to interest 
the reader has long since been abandoned by 
all the best writers. They refuse to do it. 
The modern novel must convey a message, or 
else it must paint a picture, or remove a veil, 
12 



A Sample of a Thousand-Guinea Novel 

or open a new chapter in human psychology. 
Otherwise it is no good. SPOOF does all of 
these things. The reader rises from its perusal 
perplexed, troubled, and yet so filled with in- 
formation that rising itself is a difficulty. 

We cannot, for obvious reasons, insert the 
whole of the first chapter. But the portion 
here presented was praised by The Saturday 
Afternoon Review as giving one of the most 
graphic and at the same time realistic pictures 
of America ever written in fiction. 

Of the characters whom our readers are to 
imagine seated on the deck— -on one of the 
many decks (all connected by elevators) — of 
the Gloritania, one word may be said. Vere de 
Lancy is (as the reviewers have under oath 
declared) a typical young Englishman of the 
upper class. He is nephew to the Duke of 

, but of this fact no one on the ship, except 

the captain, the purser, the steward, and the 
passengers are, or is, aware. 

In order entirely to conceal his identity, Vere 
de Lancy is travelling under the assumed name 
of Lancy de Vere. In order the better to hide 

13 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

the object of his journey, Lancy de Vere (as 
we shall now call him, though our readers will 
be able at any moment to turn his name back- 
wards) has given it to be understood that he 
is travelling merely as a gentleman anxious to 
see America. This naturally baffles all those 
in contact with him. 

The girl at his side — but perhaps we may 
best let her speak for herself. 



Somehow as they sat together on the deck 
of the great steamer in the afterglow of the 
sunken sun, listening to the throbbing of the 
propeller (a rare sound which neither of them 
of course had ever heard before), de Vere 
felt that he must speak to her. Something of 
the mystery of the girl fascinated him. What 
was she doing here alone with no one but her 
mother and her maid, on the bosom of the 
Atlantic? Why was she here? Why was she 
not somewhere else? The thing puzzled, per- 
plexed him. It would not let him alone. It 
fastened upon his brain. Somehow he felt 
14 



A Sample of a Thousand-Guinea Novel 

that if he tried to drive it away, it might nip 
him in the ankle. 

In the end he spoke. 

"And you, too," he said, leaning over her 
deck-chair, "are going to America?" 

He had suspected this ever since the boat 
left Liverpool. Now at length he framed his 
growing conviction into words. 

"Yes," she assented, and then timidly, "it is 
3,213 miles wide, is it not?" 

"Yes," he said, "and 1,781 miles deep! It 
reaches from the forty-ninth parallel to the 
Gulf of Mexico." 

"Oh," cried the girl, "what a vivid picture ! 
I seem to see it." 

"Its major axis," he went on, his voice sink- 
ing almost to a caress, "is formed by the Rocky 
Mountains, which are practically a prolonga- 
tion of the Cordilleran Range. It is drained," 
he continued 

"How splendid!" said the girl. 

"Yes, is it not? It is drained by the Mis- 
sissippi, by the St. Lawrence, and — dare I say 
it? — by the Upper Colorado." 

15 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

Somehow his hand had found hers in the 
half gloaming, but she did not check him. 

"Go on," she said very simply; "I think I 
ought to hear it" 

"The great central plain of the interior," he 
continued, "is formed by a vast alluvial deposit 
carried down as silt by the Mississippi. East 
of this the range of the Alleghanies, nowhere 
more than eight thousand feet in height, forms 
a secondary or subordinate axis from which 
the watershed falls to the Atlantic." 

He was speaking very quietly but earnestly. 
No man had ever spoken to her like this be- 
fore. 

"What a wonderful picture!" she murmured 
half to herself, half aloud, and half not aloud 
and half not to herself. 

"Through the whole of it," de Vere went on, 
"there run railways, most of them from east to 
west, though a few run from west to east. 
The Pennsylvania system alone has twenty-one 
thousand miles of track." 

"Twenty-one thousand miles," she repeated; 
16 



A Sample of a Thousand-Ghdnea Novel 

already she felt her will strangely subordinate 
to his. 

He was holding her hand firmly clasped in 
his and looking into her face. 

"Dare I tell you," he whispered, "how many 
employees it has?" 

"Yes," she gasped, unable to resist. 

"A hundred and fourteen thousand," he 
said. 

There was silence. They were both think- 
ing. Presently she spoke, timidly. 

"Are there any cities there?" 

"Cities!" he said enthusiastically, "ah, yes! 
let me try to give you a word-picture of them. 
Vast cities — with tall buildings, reaching to the 
very sky. Why, for instance, the new Wool- 
worth Building in New York " 

"Yes, yes," she broke in quickly, "how high 
is it?" 

"Seven hundred and fifty feet." 

The girl turned and faced him. 

"Don't," she said. "I can't bear it. Some 
other time, perhaps, but not now." 

17 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

She had risen and was gathering up her 
wraps. u And you," she said, "why are you 
going to America ?" 

"Why?" he answered. "Because I want to 
See, to know, to learn. And when I have 
learned and seen and known, I want other peo- 
ple to see and to learn and to know. I want 
to write it all down, all the vast palpitating 
picture of it. Ah! if I only could — I want to 
see" (and here he passed his hand through his 
hair as if trying to remember) "something of 
the relations of labour and capital, of the ex- 
traordinary development of industrial machin- 
ery, of the new and intricate organisation of 
corporation finance, and in particular I want to 
try to analyse — no one has ever done it yet — . 
the men who guide and drive it all. I want to 
set down the psychology of the multimillion- 
aire!" 

He paused. The girl stood irresolute. She 
was thinking (apparently, for if not, why stand 
there?). 

"Perhaps," she faltered, "I could help you." 

"You!" 

18 



A Sample of a Thousand-Guinea Novel 

"Yes, I might." She hesitated. "I— I— <:ome 
from America." 

"You!" said de Vere in astonishment. 
"With a face and voice like yours! It is im- 
possible!" 

The boldness of the compliment held her 
speechless for a moment. 

"I do," she said; "my people lived just out- 
side of Cohoes." 

"They couldn't have," he said passionately. 

"I shouldn't speak to you like this," the girl 
went on, "but it's because I feel from what you 
have said that you know and love America. 
And I think I can help you." 

"You mean," he said, divining her idea, "that 
you can help me to meet a multimillionaire?" 

"Yes," she answered, still hesitating. 

"You know one?" 

"Yes," still hesitating, "I know one" 

She seemed about to say more, her lips had 
already opened, when suddenly the dull raucous 
blast of the foghorn (they used a raucous one 
on this ship on purpose) cut the night air. Wet 
fog rolled in about them, wetting everything. 

19 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

The girl shivered. 

"I must go," she said; "good night." 

For a moment de Vere was about to detain 
her. The wild thought leaped to his mind to 
ask her her name or at least her mother's. 
With a powerful effort he checked himself. 

"Good night," he said. 

She was gone. 



CHAPTER II 

Limits of space forbid the insertion of the 
whole of this chapter. Its opening con- 
tains one of the most vivid word-pictures of 
the inside of an American customs house ever 
pictured in words. From the customs wharf 
de Vere is driven in a taxi to the Belmont. 
Here he engages a room; here, too, he sleeps; 
here also, though cautiously at first, he eats. 
All this is so admirably described that only 
those who have driven in a taxi to an hotel 
and slept there can hope to appreciate it. 

Limits of space also forbid our describing in 
20 



A Sample of a Thousand-Guinea Novel 

full de Vere's vain quest in New York of the 
beautiful creature whom he had met on the 
steamer and whom he had lost from sight in the 
aigrette department of the customs house. A 
thousand times he cursed his folly in not having 
asked her name. 

Meanwhile no word comes from her, till 
suddenly, mysteriously, unexpectedly, on the 
fourth day a note is handed to de Vere by the 
Third Assistant Head Waiter of the Belmont. 
It is addressed in a lady's hand. He tears it 
open. It contains only the written words, 
"Call on Mr. J. Superman Oversold. He is a 
multimillionaire. He expects you." 

To leap into a taxi (from the third story 
of the Belmont) was the work of a moment. 
To drive to the office of Mr. Overgold was less. 
The portion of the novel which follows is per- 
haps the most notable part of it. It is this 
part of the chapter which the Hibbert Journal 
declares to be the best piece of psychological 
analysis that appears in any novel of the sea- 
son. We reproduce it here. 



21 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"Exactly, exactly," said de Vere, writing 
rapidly in his note-book as he sat in one of 
the deep leather armchairs of the luxurious of- 
fice of Mr. Overgold. "So you sometimes feel 
as if the whole thing were not worth while." 

"I do," said Mr. Overgold. "I can't help 
asking myself what it all means. Is life, after 
all, merely a series of immaterial phenomena, 
self-developing and based solely on sensation 
and reaction, or is it something else?" 

He paused for a moment to sign a cheque 
for $10,000 and throw it out of the window, 
and then went on, speaking still with the terse 
brevity of a man of business. 

"Is sensation everywhere or is there percep- 
tion too? On what grounds, if any, may the 
hypothesis of a self-explanatory consciousness 
be rejected? In how far are we warranted in 
supposing that innate ideas are inconsistent 
with pure materialism?" 

De Vere listened, fascinated. Fortunately 
for himself, he was a University man, fresh 
from the examination halls of his Alma Mater. 
He was able to respond at once. 
22 



A Sample of a Thousand- Guinea Novel 

"I think," he said modestly, "I grasp your 
thought. You mean — to what extent are we 
prepared to endorse Hegel's dictum of imma- 
terial evolution?" 

"Exactly," said Mr. Overgold. "How far, 
if at all, do we substantiate the Kantian hy- 
pothesis of the transcendental?" 

"Precisely," said de Vere eagerly. "And for 
what reasons [naming them] must we reject 
Spencer's theory of the unknowable?" 

"Entirely so," continued Mr. Overgold. 
"And why, if at all, does Bergsonian illusion- 
ism differ from pure nothingness?" 

They both paused. 

Mr. Overgold had risen. There was great 
weariness in his manner. 

"It saddens one, does it not?" he said. 

He had picked up a bundle of Panama two 
per cent, gold bonds and was looking at them 
in contempt. 

"The emptiness of it all !" he muttered. He 
extended the bonds to de Vere. 

"Do you want them," he said, "or shall I 
throw them away?" 

23 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"Give them to me," said de Vere quietly; 
"they are not worth the throwing." 

"No, no," said Mr. Overgold, speaking half 
to himself, as he replaced the bonds in his desk. 
"It is a burden that I must carry alone. I have 
no right to ask any one to share it. But come," 
he continued, "I fear I am sadly lacking in the 
duties of international hospitality. I am for- 
getting what I owe to Anglo-American cour- 
tesy. I am neglecting the new obligations of 
our common Indo-Chinese policy. My motor 
is at the door. Pray let me take you to my 
house to lunch." 

De Vere assented readily, telephoned to the 
Belmont not to keep lunch waiting for him, and 
in a moment was speeding up the magnificent 
Riverside Drive towards Mr. Overgold's home. 
On the way Mr. Overgold pointed out various 
objects of interest, — Grant's tomb, Lincoln's 
tomb, Edgar Allan Poe's grave, the ticket of- 
fice of the New York Subway, and various 
other points of historic importance. 

On arriving at the house, de Vere was ush- 
ered up a flight of broad marble steps to a 
24 



A Sample of a Thousand-Guinea Novel 

hall fitted on every side with almost priceless 
objets d'art and others, ushered to the cloak- 
room and out of it, butlered into the lunch- 
room and footmanned to a chair. 

As they entered, a lady already seated at 
the table turned to meet them. 

One glance was enough — plenty. 

It was she — the object of de Vere's impas- 
sioned quest. A rich lunch-gown was girdled 
about her with a twelve-o'clock band of pearls. 

She reached out her hand, smiling. 

"Dorothea," said the multimillionaire, "this 
is Mr. de Vere. Mr. de Vere — my wife." 

CHAPTER III 

Of this next chapter we need only say that 
the Blue Review (Adults Only) declares it to 
be the most daring and yet conscientious han- 
dling of the sex-problem ever attempted and 
done. The fact that the Congregational Times 
declares that this chapter will undermine the 
whole foundations of English Society and let 
it fall, we pass over: we hold certificates in 
25 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

writing from a great number of the Anglican 
clergy, to the effect that they have carefully 
read the entire novel and see nothing in it. 

They stood looking at one another. 

"So you didn't know," she murmured. 

In a flash de Vere realised that she hadn't 
known that he didn't know and knew now that 
he knew. 

He found no words. 

The situation was a tense one. Nothing but 
the woman's innate tact could save it. Doro- 
thea Overgold rose to it with the dignity of a 
queen. 

She turned to her husband. 

"Take your soup over to the window," she 
said, "and eat it there." 

The millionaire took his soup to the window 
and sat beneath a little palm tree, eating it. 

"You didn't know," she repeated. 

"No," said de Vere; "how could I?" 

"And yet," she went on, "you loved me, 
although you didn't know that I was mar- 
ried?" 

26 



A Sample of a Thousand-Guinea Novel 

"Yes," answered de Vere simply. "I loved 
you, in spite of it." 

"How splendid!" she said. 

There was a moment's silence. Mr. Over- 
gold had returned to the table, the empty plate 
in his hand. His wife turned to him again 
with the same unfailing tact. 

"Take your asparagus to the billiard-room, " 
she said, "and eat it there." 

"Does he know, too?" asked de Vere. 

"Mr. Overgold?" she said carelessly. "I 
suppose he does. Eh apres, mon amif 1 

French? Another mystery! Where and 
how had she learned it? de Vere asked himself. 
Not in France, certainly. 

"I fear that you are very young, amlco mio}' 
Dorothea went on carelessly. "After all, what 
is there wrong in it, piccolo pochitof To a 
man's mind perhaps — but to a woman, love is 
love." 

She beckoned to the butler. 

"Take Mr. Overgold a cutlet to the music- 
room," she said, "and give him his gorgonzola 
on the inkstand in the library." 
27 



Moonbeams front the Larger Lunacy 

"And now," she went on, in that caressing 
wav which seemed so natural to her, "don't let 
us think about it any more! After all, what 
is is, isn't it?" 

"I suppose it is," said de Vere, half con- 
vinced in spite of himself. 

"Or at any rate," said Dorothea, "nothing 
can at the same time both be and not be. But 
come," she broke off, gaily dipping a macaroon 
in a glass of crime de me tithe and offering it to 
him with a pretty* gesture of camaraderie, 
"don't let's be gloomy any more. I want to 
take you with me to the matinee." 

"Is he coming?" asked de Vere, pointing at 
Mr. Overgold's empty* chair. 

"Silly boy," laughed Dorothea. "Of course 
John is coming. You surely don't want to buy 
the tickets yourself." 



The days that followed brought a strange 
new life to de Vere. 

Dorothea was ever at his side. At the thea- 
tre, at the polo ground, in the park, every- 



A Sample of a Thousand-Guinea Novel 

where they were together. And with them was 
Mr. Overgold. 

The three were always together. At times 
at the theatre Dorothea and de Vere would sit 
downstairs and Mr. Overgold in the gallery; 
at other times, de Vere and Mr. Overgold 
would sit in the gallery and Dorothea down- 
stairs; at times one of them would sit in Row 
A, another in Row B, and a third in Row C ; at 
other times two would sit in Row B and one in 
Row C; at the opera, at times, one of the three 
would sit listening, the others talking, at other 
times two listening and one talking, and at 
other times three talking and none listening. 

Thus the three formed together one of the 
most perplexing, maddening triangles that ever 
disturbed the society of the metropolis. 



The denouement was bound to come. 
It came. 

It was late at night. 

De Vere was standing beside Dorothea in 
the brilliantly lighted hall of the Grand Pala- 

29 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

ver Hotel, where they had had supper. Mr. 
Overgold was busy for a moment at the cash- 
ier's desk. 

"Dorothea," de Vere whispered passionately, 
"I want to take you away, away from all this. 
I want you." 

She turned and looked him full in the face. 
Then she put her hand in his, smiling bravely. 

"I will come," she said. 

"Listen," he went on, "the Gloritania sails 
for England to-morrow at midnight. I have 
everything ready. Will you come?" 

"Yes," she answered, "I will"; and then pas- 
sionately, "Dearest, I will follow you to Eng- 
land, to Liverpool, to the end of the earth." 

She paused in thought a moment and then 
added. 

"Come to the house just before midnight. 
William, the second chauffeur (he is devoted 
to me), shall be at the door with the third 
car. The fourth footman will bring my things 
— I can rely on him; the fifth housemaid can 
have them all ready — she would never betray 
me. I will have the undergardener — the sixth 



A Sample of a Thousand-Guinea Novel 

— waiting at the iron gate to let you in; he 
would die rather than fail me." 

She paused again — then she went on. 

"There is only one thing, dearest, that I 
want to ask. It is not much. I hardly think 
you would refuse it at such an hour. May I 
bring my husband with me?" 

De Vere's face blanched. 

"Must you?" he said. 

"I think I must," said Dorothea. "You 
don't know how I've grown to value, to lean 
upon, him. At times I have felt as if I always 
wanted him to be near me ; I like to feel wher- 
ever I am — at the play, at a restaurant, any- 
where — that I can reach out and touch him. 
I know," she continued, "that it's only a wild 
fancy and that others would laugh at it, but 
you can understand, can you not — carino ca- 
ms o miof And think, darling, in our new life, 
how busy he, too, will be — making money for 
all of us — in a new money market. It's just 
wonderful how he does it." 

A great light of renunciation lit up de Vere's 
face. 

» 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"Bring him," he said. 

"I knew that you would say that," she mur- 
mured, "and listen, pochito pocket-edition, may 
I ask one thing more, one weeny thing? Wil- 
liam, the second chauffeur — I think he would 
fade away if I were gone — may I bring him, 
too? Yes! O my darling, how can I repay 
you? And the second footman, and the third 
housemaid — if I were gone I fear that none 
of H 

"Bring them all," said de Vere half bitterly; 
"we will all elope together." 

And as he spoke Mr. Overgold sauntered 
over from the cashier's desk, his open purse 
still in his hand, and joined them. There was 
a dreamy look upon his face. 

"I wonder," he murmured, "whether per- 
sonality survives or whether it, too, when up 
against the irresistible, dissolves and resolves 
itself into a series of negative reactions?" 

De Vere's empty heart echoed the words. 

Then they passed out and the night swal- 
lowed them up. 



32 



A Sample of a Thousand-Gruinea Novel 



CHAPTER IV 

At a little before midnight on the next night, 
two motors filled with muffled human beings 
might have been perceived, or seen, moving 
noiselessly from Riverside Drive to the steamer 
wharf where lay the Gloritania. 

A night of intense darkness enveloped the 
Hudson. Outside the inside of the dockside a 
defense fog wrapped the Statue of Liberty. Be- 
side the steamer customs officers and deporta- 
tion officials moved silently to and fro in long 
black cloaks, carrying little deportation lan- 
terns in their hands. 

To these Mr. Overgold presented in silence 
his deportation certificates, granting his party 
permission to leave the United States under 
the imbecility clause of the Interstate Com- 
merce Act. 

No objection was raised. 

A few moments later the huge steamer was 
slipping away in the darkness. 

On its deck a little group of people, standing 

33 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

beside a pile of first-class cabin luggage, di- 
rected a last sad look through their heavy black 
disguise at the rapidly vanishing shore which 
they could not see. 

De Vere, who stood in the midst of them, 
clasping their hands, thus stood and gazed his 
last at America. 

"Spoof l" he said. 

(We admit that this final panorama, weird 
in its midnight mystery, and filling the mind 
of the reader with a sense of something like 
awe, is only appended to Spoof in order to coax 
him to read our forthcoming sequel, Spiff I) 



34 



THE READING PUBLIC 



II. —The Reading Public. A Book 
Store Study 

WISH to look about the store ? Oh, 
oh, by all means, sir," he said. 
Then as he rubbed his hands 
together in an urbane fashion he 
directed a piercing glance at me through his 
spectacles. 

"You'll find some things that might interest 
you," he said, "in the back of the store on the 
left. We have there a series of reprints — 
Universal Knowledge from Aristotle to Arthur 
Balfour — at seventeen cents. Or perhaps you 
might like to look over the Pantheon of Dead 
Authors at ten cents. Mr. Sparrow," he 
called, "just show this gentleman our classical 
reprints — the ten-cent series." 

With that he waved his hand to an assistant 
and dismissed me from his thought. 

In other words, he had divined me in a mo- 
37 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

ment. There was no use in my having bought 
a sage-green fedora in Broadway, and a sport- 
ing tie done up crosswise with spots as big as 
nickels. These little adornments can never hide 
the soul within. I was a professor, and he 
knew it, or at least, as part of his business, he 
could divine it on the instant. 

The sales manager of the biggest book store 
for ten blocks cannot be deceived in a customer. 
And he knew, of course, that, as a professor, 
I was no good. I had come to the store, a9 
all professors go to book stores, just as a wasp 
comes to an open jar of marmalade. He knew 
that I would hang around for two hours, get 
in everybody's way, and finally buy a cheap re- 
print of the Dialogues of Plato, or the Prose 
Works of John Milton, or Locke on the Hu- 
man Understanding, or some trash of that 
sort. 

As for real taste in literature — the ability 
to appreciate at its worth a dollar-fifty novel 
of last month, in a spring jacket with a tango 
frontispiece — I hadn't got it and he knew it. 

He despised me, of course. But it is a 
38 



The Reading Public 



maxim of the book business that a professor 
standing up in a corner buried in a book looks 
well in a store. The real customers like it. 

So it was that even so up-to-date a manager 
as Mr. Sellyer tolerated my presence in a back 
corner of his store: and so it was that I had 
an opportunity of noting something of his meth- 
ods with his real customers — methods so suc- 
cessful, I may say, that he is rightly looked 
upon by all the publishing business as one of 
the mainstays of literature in America. 

I had no intention of standing in the place 
and listening as a spy. In fact, to tell the 
truth, I had become immediately interested in 
a new translation of the Moral Discourses of 
Epictetus. The book was very neatly printed, 
quite well bound and was offered at eighteen 
cents; so that for the moment I was strongly 
tempted to buy it, though it seemed best to 
take a dip into it first. 

I had hardly read more than the first three 
chapters when my attention was diverted by a 
conversation going on in the front of the store. 

"You're quite sure it's his latest?" a fash- 

39 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

ionably dressed lady was saying to Mr. Sell- 
yer. 

"Oh, yes, Mrs. Rasselyer," answered the 
manager. "I assure you this is his very latest. 
In fact, they only came in yesterday." 

As he spoke, he indicated with his hand a 
huge pile of books, gayly jacketed in white and 
blue. I could make out the title in big gilt 
lettering— GOLDEN DREAMS. 

"Oh, yes," repeated Mr. Sellyer. "This is 
Mr. Slush's latest book. It's having a won- 
derful sale." 

"That's all right, then," said the lady. "You 
see, one sometimes gets taken in so : I came in 
here last week and took two that seemed very 
nice, and I never noticed till I got home that 
they were both old books, published, I think, 
six months ago." 

"Oh, dear me, Mrs. Rasselyer," said the 
manager in an apologetic tone, "I'm extremely 
sorry. Pray let us send for them and exchange 
them for you." 

"Oh, it does not matter," said the lady; "of 
course I didn't read them. I gave them to my 
40 



The Reading Public 



maid. She probably wouldn't know the differ- 
ence, anyway." 

"I suppose not," said Mr. Sellyer, with a 
condescending smile. "But of course, ma- 
dam," he went on, falling into the easy chat of 
the fashionable bookman, "such mistakes are 
bound to happen sometimes. We had a very 
painful case only yesterday. One of our oldest 
customers came in in a great hurry to buy 
books to take on the steamer, and before we 
realised what he had done — selecting the books 
I suppose merely by the titles, as some gentle- 
men are apt to do — he had taken two of last 
year's books. We wired at once to the steamer, 
but I'm afraid it's too late." 

"But now, this book," said the lady, idly 
turning over the leaves, "is it good? What is 
it about?" 

"It's an extremely powerful thing," said Mr. 
Sellyer, "in fact, masterly. The critics are say- 
ing that it's perhaps the most powerful book 

of the season. It has a " and here Mr. 

Sellyer paused, and somehow his manner re- 
minded me of my own when I am explaining 
41 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

to a university class something that I don't 
know myself — "It has a — a — power, so to 
speak — a very exceptional power; in fact, one 
may say without exaggeration it is the most 
powerful book of the month. Indeed," he 
added, getting on to easier ground, "it's having 
a perfectly wonderful sale." 

"You seem to have a great many of them," 
said the lady. 

"Oh, we have to," answered the manager. 
"There's a regular rush on the book. Indeed, 
you know it's a book that is bound to make a 
sensation. In fact, in certain quarters, they 
are saying that it's a book that ought not 

to " And here Mr. Sellyer's voice became 

so low and ingratiating that I couldn't hear 
the rest of the sentence. 

"Oh, really!" said Mrs. Rasselyer. "Well, 
I think I'll take it then. One ought to see 
what these talked-of things are about, any- 
way." 

She had already begun to button her gloves, 
and to readjust her feather boa with which she 
had been knocking the Easter cards off the 

42 



The Reading Public 



counter. Then she suddenly remembered some- 
thing. 

"Oh, I was forgetting," she said. "Will you 
send something to the house for Mr. Rasselyer 
at the same time? He's going down to Vir- 
ginia for the vacation. You know the kind 
of thing he likes, do you not?" 

"Oh, perfectly, madam," said the manager. 
"Mr. Rasselyer generally reads works of — er 
— I think he buys mostly books on — er " 

"Oh, travel and that sort of thing," said the 
lady. 

"Precisely. I think we have here," and he 
pointed to the counter on the left, "what Mr. 
Rasselyer wants." 

He indicated a row of handsome books — 
"Seven Weeks in the Sahara, seven dollars; 
Six Months in a Waggon, six-fifty net; After- 
noons in an Oxcart, two volumes, four-thirty, 
with twenty off." 

"I think he has read those," said Mrs. Ras- 
selyer. "At least there are a good many at 
home that seem like that." 

"Oh, very possibly — but here, now, Among 
43 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

the Cannibals of Corfu — yes, that I think he 
has had — Among the — that, too, I think — but 
this I am certain he would like, just in this 
morning — Among the Monkeys of New Guinea 
— ten dollars, net." 

And with this Mr. Sellyer laid his hand on a 
pile of new books, apparently as numerous as 
the huge pile of Golden Dreams. 

41 Among the Monkeys" he repeated, almost 
caressingly. 

"It seems rather expensive," said the lady. 

"Oh, very much so — a most expensive book," 
the manager repeated in a tone of enthusiasm. 
"You see, Mrs. Rasselyer, it's the illustrations, 
actual photographs" — he ran the leaves over 
in his fingers — "of actual monkeys, taken with 
the camera — and the paper, you notice — in 
fact, madam, the book costs, the mere manu- 
facture of it, nine dollars and ninety cents — 
of course we make no profit on it. But it's a 
book we like to handle." 

Everybody likes to be taken into the details 
of technical business; and of course everybody 
likes to know that a bookseller is losing money. 
44 



The Beading Public 



These, I realised, were two axioms in the meth- 
ods of Mr. Sellyer. 

So very naturally Mrs. Rasselyer bought 
Among the Monkeys, and in another moment 
Mr. Sellyer was directing a clerk to write down 
an address on Fifth Avenue, and was bowing 
deeply as he showed the lady out of the door. 

As he turned back to his counter his manner 
seemed much changed. 

"That Monkey book," I heard him murmur 
to his assistant, "is going to be a pretty stiff 
proposition. ,, 

But he had no time for further speculation. 

Another lady entered. 

This time even to an eye less trained than 
Mr. Sellyer's, the deep, expensive mourning 
and the pensive face proclaimed the sentimental 
widow. 

"Something new in fiction," repeated the 
manager, "yes, madam — here's a charming 
thing — Golden Dreams" — he hung lovingly on 
the words — "a very sweet story, singularly 
sweet; in fact, madam, the critics are saying it 
is the sweetest thing that Mr. Slush has done." 
45 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"Is it good?" said the lady. I began to real- 
ise that all customers asked this. 

"A charming book," said the manager. "It's 
a love story — very simple and sweet, yet won- 
derfully charming. Indeed, the reviews say it's 
the most charming book of the month. My 
wife was reading it aloud only last night. She 
could hardly read for tears." 

"I suppose it's quite a safe book, is it?" 
asked the widow. "I want it for my little 
daughter." 

"Oh, quite safe," said Mr. Sellyer, with an 
almost parental tone, "in fact, written quite in 
the old style, like the dear old books of the 
past — quite like" — here Mr. Sellyer paused 
with a certain slight haze of doubt visible in 
his eye — "like Dickens and Fielding and 
Sterne and so on. We sell a great many to the 
clergy, madam." 

The lady bought Golden Dreams, received 
it wrapped up in green enamelled paper, and 
passed out. 

"Have you any good light reading for vaca- 
tion time?" called out the next customer in a 

46 



The Reading Public 



loud, breezy voice — he had the air of a stock 
broker starting on a holiday. 

"Yes," said Mr. Sellyer, and his face almost 
broke into a laugh as he answered, "here's an 
excellent thing — Golden Dreams — quite the 
most humorous book of the season — simply 
screaming — my wife was reading it aloud only 
yesterday. She could hardly read for laugh- 
ing." 

"What's the price, one dollar? One-fifty. 
All right, wrap it up." There was a clink of 
money on the counter, and the customer was 
gone. I began to see exactly where professors 
and college people who want copies of Epic- 
tetus at 1 8 cents and sections of World Re- 
prints of Literature at 12 cents a section come 
in, in the book trade. 

"Yes, Judge!" said the manager to the next 
customer, a huge, dignified personage in a wide- 
awake hat, "sea stories? Certainly. Excel- 
lent reading, no doubt, when the brain is over- 
charged as yours must be. Here is the very 
latest — Among the Monkeys of New Guinea, 
ten dollars, reduced to four-fifty. The manu- 
47 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

facture alone costs six-eighty. We're selling it 
out. Thank you, Judge. Send it? Yes. Good 
morning." 

After that the customers came and went in 
a string. I noticed that though the store was 
filled with books — ten thousand of them, at a 
guess — Mr. Sellyer was apparently only selling 
two. Every woman who entered went away 
with Golden Dreams: every man was given a 
copy of the Monkeys of New Guinea. To one 
lady Golden Dreams was sold as exactly the 
reading for a holiday, to another as the very 
book to read after a holiday; another bought 
it as a book for a rainy day, and a fourth as 
the right sort of reading for a fine day. The 
Monkeys was sold as a sea story, a land story, 
a story of the jungle, and a story of the moun- 
tains, and it was put at a price corresponding 
to Mr. Sellyer's estimate of the purchaser. 

At last after a busy two hours, the store 
grew empty for a moment. 

"Wilfred," said Mr. Sellyer, turning to his 
chief assistant, "I am going out to lunch. Keep 
those two books running as hard as you can. 

4 8 



The Reading Public 



We'll try them for another day and then cut 
them right out. And I'll drop round to 
Dockem & Discount, the publishers, and make 
'a kick about them, and see what they'll 
do." 

I felt that I had lingered long enough. I 
drew near with the Epictetus in my hand. 

"Yes, sir," said Mr. Sellyer, professional 
again in a mxmient. "Epictetus? A charming 
thing. Eighteen cents. Thank you. Perhaps 
we 1 have 'some other things there that might 
interest you. We have a few second-hand 
things in the alcove there that you might care 
to look at. There's an Aristotle, two volumes 
— a very fine things — practically illegible, that 
.you^might like: and a Cicero came in yesterday 
— very choice — damaged by damp — and I 
think we have a MachiavelU, quite exceptional 
-^practically torn to pieces, and the covers 
gone— -a very rare old thing, sir, if you're an 
expert." 

"Nx), thanks," I said. And then from a cu- 
riosity that Jhad been growing in me and 
that I couldn't resist, "That book — Golden 
49 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

Dreams/' I said, "you seem to think it a very 
wonderful work?" 

Mr. Sellyer directed one of his shrewd 
glances at me. He knew I didn't want to buy 
the book, and perhaps, like lesser people, he 
had his off moments of confidence. 

He shook his head. 

"A bad business," he said. "The publishers, 
have unloaded the thing on us, and we have to 
do what we can. They're stuck with it, I un- 
derstand, and they look to us to help them. 
They're advertising it largely and may pull it 
off. Of course, there's just a chance. One 
can't tell. It's just possible we may get the 
church people down on it and if so we're all 
right. But short of that we'll never make it. 
I imagine it's perfectly rotten." 

"Haven't you read it?" I asked. 

"Dear me, no !" said the manager. His air 
was that of a milkman who is offered a glass 
of his own milk. "A pretty time I'd have if I 
tried to read the new books. It's quite enough 
to keep track of them without that." 

"But those people," I went on, deeply per- 
50 



The. Reading Public 



plexed, "who bought the book. Won't they 
be disappointed ?" 

Mr. Sellyer shook his head. "Oh, no," he 
said; "you see, they won't read it. They never 
do." 

"But at any rate," I insisted, "your wife 
thought it a fine story." 

Mr. Sellyer smiled widely. 

"I am not married, sir," he said. 



51 



AFTERNOON ADVEN- 
TURES AT MY CLUB 



1. — The Anecdotes of 
Dr. So and So 



^ ■ ^HAT is not really his name. I merely 
call him that from his manner of 



1 



talking. 

His specialty is telling me short 
anecdotes of his professional life from day to 
day. 

They are told with wonderful dash and 
power, except for one slight omission, which is, 
that you never know what the doctor is talk- 
ing about. Beyond this, his little stories are 
of unsurpassed interest — but let me illustrate. 

He came into the semi-silence room of the 
club the other day and sat down beside me. 
"Have something or other ?" he said. 
"No, thanks," I answered. 
"Smoke anything?" he asked. 
"No, thanks." 

55 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

The doctor turned to me. He evidently 
wanted to talk. 

"I've been haying a rather peculiar experi- 
ence," he said. "Man came to me the other 
day — three or four weeks ago — and said, 
'Doctor, I feel out of sorts. I believe IVe got 
so and so.' 'Ah/ I said, taking a look at him, 
'been eating so and so, eh?' 'Yes,' he said. 
'Very good,' I said, 'take so and so.' 

"Well* off the fellow went — I thought noth- 
ing of ithr-simply wrote,: such and such in my 
note-book, such and such a date, symptoms such 
and such— prescribed such and such, and so 
forth, you understand?" 

"Oh, yes, perfectly K doctor," I answered. 

"Very good. Three days later — a ring at 
the bell in the evening — my servant came to 
the surgery. 'Mr. So and So is here. Very 
anxious to see you.' 'All right!' I went down. 
There he was, with every symptom of so and 
so written all over him — every symptom of it 
— this and this and this " 

"Awful symptoms, doctor," I said, shaking 
my head. 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

"Are they not?" he said, quite unaware that 
he hadn't named any. "There he was with 
every symptom, heart so and so, eyes so and 
so, pulse this — I looked at him right in the 
eye and I said — 'Do you want me to tell you 
the truth?' 'Yes/ he said. 'Very good/ I an- 
swered, 'I will. YouVe got so and so.' He 
fell back as if shot. 'So and so !' he repeated, 
dazed. I went to, the sideboard and poured 
him out a drink of such and such. 'Drink this,' 
I said. He drank it. 'Now/ I said, 'listen to 
what I say: YouVe got so and so. There's 
only one chance/ I said, 'you must limit your 
eating and drinking to such and such, you 
must sleep such and such, avoid every form of 
such and such — I'll give you a cordial, so many 
drops every so long, but mind you, unless you 
do so and so, it won't help you.' 'All right, 
very good.' Fellow promised. Off he went" 

The doctor paused a minute and then re- 
sumed: 

"Would you believe it — two nights later, I 
saw the fellow — after the theatre, in a restau- 
rant-— whole party of people — big plate of so 
57 



Moonbeams front the Larger Lunacy 

and so in front of him — quart bottle of so and 
so on ice — such and such and so forth. I 
stepped over to him — tapped him on the shoul- 
der: 'See here/ I said, 'if you won't obey 
my instructions, you can't expect me to treat 
you.' I walked out of the place." 

"And what happened to him?" I asked. 

"Died," said the doctor, in a satisfied tone. 
"Died. I've just been filling in the certificate: 
So and so, aged such and such, died of so and 
so!" 

"An awful disease," I murmured. 



58 



2— The Shattered Health of 
Mr. Podge 

HOW are you, Podge ?" I said, as I 
sat down in a leather armchair be- 
side him. 
I only meant "How-do-you-do?" 
but he rolled his big eyes sideways at me in his 
flabby face (it was easier than moving his face) 
and he answered: 

"I'm not as well to-day as I was yesterday 
afternoon. Last week I was feeling pretty 
good part of the time, but yesterday about four 
o'clock the air turned humid, and I don't feel 
so well." 

"Have a cigarette?" I said. 
"No, thanks ; I find they affect the bronchial 
toobes." 

"Whose?" I asked. 
"Mine," he answered. 

"Oh, yes," I said, and I lighted one. "So 
59 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

you find the weather trying,' ' I continued cheer- 
fully. 

"Yes, it's too humid. It's up to a satura- 
tion of sixty-six. I'm all right till it passes 
sixty-four. Yesterday afternoon it was only 
about sixty-one, and I felt fine. But after that 
it went up. I guess it must be a"**mtfttction of 
the epidermis pressing on Sortie of ife^*dba- 
ceous glands, don't you?" 

"I'm sure it is," I said. "But why don't 
you just sleep it off till it's over?" 

"I don't like to sleep too much," he an- 
swered. "I'm afraid of it developing into 
hypersomnia. There are cases where it's been 
known to grow into a sort of lethargy that 
pretty well stops all brain action alto- 
gether " 

"That would be too bad," I murmured. 
"What do you do to prevent it?" 

"I generally drink from half to three-quar- 
ters of a cup of black coffee, or nearly black, 
every morning at from eleven to Rvo minutes 
past, so as to keep off hypersomnia. It's the? 
best thing, thfc doctor sa^s." 

60 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

"Aren't you afraid," I said, "of its keeping 
you awake?" 

"I am," answered Podge, and a spasm 
passed over his big yellow face. "I'm always 
afraid of insomnia. That's the worst thing of 
all. The other night I went to bed about half- 
past ten, or twenty-five minutes after, — I for- 
get which, — and I simply couldn't sleep. I 
couldn't. I read a magazine story, and I still 
couldn't; and I read another, and still I couldn't 
sleep. It scared me bad." 

"Oh, pshaw," I said; "I don't think sleep 
matters as long as one eats properly and has 
a good appetite." 

He shook his head very dubiously. "I ate 
a plate of soup at lunch," he said, "and I feel, 
it still." 

"You feel it!" 

"Yes," repeated Podge, rolling his eyes side- 
ways in a pathetic fashion that he had, "I still 
feel it. I oughtn't to have eaten it. It was 
some sort of a bean soup, and of course it was 
full of nitrogen. I oughtn't to touch nitrogen," 
he added, shaking his head. 
61 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"Not take any nitrogen ?" I repeated. 

"No, the doctor — both doctors — have told 
me that. I can eat starches, and albumens, all 
right, but I have to keep right away from all 
carbons and nitrogens. I've been dieting that 
way for two years, except that now and again 
I take a little glucose or phosphates." 

"That must be a nice change," I said, cheer- 
fully. 

"It is," he answered in a grateful sort of 
tone. 

There was a pause. I looked at his big 
twitching face, and listened to the heavy wheez- 
ing of his breath, and I felt sorry for him. 

"See here, Podge," I said, "I want to give 
you some good advice." 

"About what?" 

"About your health." 

"Yes, yes, do," he said. Advice about his 
health was right in his line. He lived on it. 

"Well, then, cut out all this fool business 
of diet and drugs and nitrogen. Don't bother 
about anything of the sort. Forget it. Eat 
everything you want to, just when you want 

62 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

it. Drink all you like. Smoke all you can — 
and you'll feel a new man in a week." 

"Say, do you think so!" he panted, his eyes 
filled with a new light. 

"I know it," I answered. And as I left him 
I shook hands with a warm feeling about my 
heart of being a benefactor to the human race. 

Next day, sure enough, Podge's usual chair 
at the club was empty. 

"Out getting some decent exercise," I 
thought. "Thank Heaven!" 

Nor did he come the next day, nor the next, 
nor for a week. 

"Leading a rational life at last," I thought. 
"Out in the open getting a little air and sun- 
light, instead of sitting here howling about his 
stomach." 

The day after that I saw Dr. Slyder in black 
clothes glide into the club in that peculiar man- 
ner of his, like an amateur undertaker. 

"Hullo, Slyder," I called to him, "you look 
as solemn as if you had been to a funeral." 

"I have," he said very quietly, and then 
added, "poor Podge!" 

63 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"What about him?" I asked with sudden 
apprehension. 

"Why, he died on Tuesday," answered the 
doctor. "Hadn't you heard? Strangest case 
IVe known in years. Came home suddenly 
one day, pitched all his medicines down the 
kitchen sink, ordered a couple of cases of 
champagne and two hundred havanas, and had 
his housekeeper cook a dinner like a Roman 
banquet! After being under treatment for 
two years! Lived, you know, on the narrow- 
est margin conceivable. I told him and Silk 
told him — we all told him — his onry chance was 
to keep away from every form of nitrogenous 
ultra-stimulants. I said to him often, Todge, 
if you touch heavy carbonized food, you're 
lost.' " 

"Dear me," I thought to myself, "there are 
such things after all!" 

"It was a marvel," continued Slyder, "that 
we kept him alive at all. And, of course" — 
here the doctor paused to ring the bell to order 
two Manhattan cocktails — "as soon as he 
touched alcohol he was done'." 

6 4 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

So that was the end of the valetudinarian- 
ism of Mr. Podge. 

I have always considered that I killed him. 
• ••••.. 

But anyway, he was a nuisance at the club. 



6S 



3.— The Amazing' Travels of 
Mr. Yarner 



THERE was no fault to be found with 
Mr. Yarner till he made his trip 
around the world. 

It was that, I think, which dis- 
turbed his brain and unfitted him for member- 
ship in the club. 

"Well," he would say, as he sat ponderously 
down with the air of a man opening an inter- 
esting conversation, "I was just figuring it out 
that eleven months ago to-day I was in Pekin." 

"That's odd," I said, "I was just reckoning 
that eleven days ago I was in Poughkeepsie." 

"They don't call it Pekin over there," he 
said. "It's sounded Pei-Chang." 

"I know," I said, "it's the same way with 
Poughkeepsie, they pronounce it P'Keepsie." 
66 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

"The Chinese," he went on musingly, "are 
a strange people." 

"So are the people in P'Keepsie," I added, 
"awfully strange." 

That kind of retort would sometimes stop 
him, but not always. He was especially dan- 
gerous if he was found with a newspaper in his 
hand; because that meant that some item of 
foreign intelligence had gone to his brain. 

Not that I should have objected to Yarner 
describing his travels. Any man who has 
bought a ticket round the world and paid for 
it, is entitled to that. 

But it was his manner of discussion that I 
considered unpermissible. 

Last week, for example, in an unguarded 
moment I fell a victim. I had been guilty 
of the imprudence — I forget in what connec- 
tion — of speaking of lions. I realized at once 
that I had done wrong — lions, giraffes, ele- 
phants, rickshaws and natives of all brands, 
are topics to avoid in talking with a trav- 
eller. 

"Speaking of lions," began Yarner. 

6 7 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

He was right, of course; I had spoken of 
lions. 

" — I shall never forget," he went on (of 
course, I knew he never would) , u a rather bad 
scrape I got into in the up-country of Uganda. 
Imagine yourself in a wild, rolling country 
covered here and there with kwas along the 
sides of the nullahs/* 

I did so. 

"Well," continued Yarner, "we were sitting 
in our tent one hot night — too hot to sleep — 
when all at once we heard, not ten feet in front 
of us, the most terrific roar that ever came 
from the throat of a lion." 

As he said this Yarner paused to take a gulp 
of bubbling whiskey and soda and looked at 
me so ferociously that I actually shivered. 

Then quite suddenly his manner cooled down 
in the strangest way, and his voice changed to 
a commonplace tone as he said, — 

"Perhaps I ought to explain that we hadn't 

come up to the up-country looking for big game. 

In fact, we had been down in the down country 

with no idea of going higher than Mombasa. 

68 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

Indeed, our going even to Mombasa itself was 
more or less an afterthought. Our first plan 
was to strike across from Aden to Singapore. 
But our second plan was to strike direct from 
Colombo to Karuchi — " 

u And what was your third plan?" I asked. 

"Our third plan," said Yarner deliberately, 
feeling that the talk was now getting really 
interesting, "let me see, our third plan was to 
cut across from Socotra to Tananarivo." 

"Oh, yes," I said. 

"However, all that was changed, and 
changed under the strangest circumstances. 
We were sitting, Gallon and I, on the piazza 
of the Galle Face Hotel in Colombo — you 
know the Galle Face?" 

"No, I do not," I said very positively. 

"Very good. Well, I was sitting on the 
piazza watching a snake charmer who was 
seated, with a boa, immediately in front of 
me. 

"Poor Gallon was actually within two feet of 
the hideous reptile. All of a sudden the beast 
whirled itself into a coil, its eyes fastened with 

6 9 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

hideous malignity on poor Gallon, and with its 
head erect it emitted the most awful hiss I 
have heard proceed from the mouth of any 
living snake." 

Here Yarner paused and took a long, hiss- 
ing drink of whiskey and soda: and then as 
the malignity died out of his face — i 

"I should explain,'' he went on, very quietly, 
"that Gallon was not one of our original party. 
We had come down to Colombo from Mon- 
golia, going by the Pekin Hankow and the 
Nippon Yushen Keisha." 

"That, I suppose, is the best way?" I said. 

"Yes. And oddly enough but for the acci- 
dent of Gallon joining us, we should have gone 
by the Amoy, Cochin, Singapore route, which 
was our first plan. In fact, but for Gallon we 
should hardly have got through China at all 
The Boxer insurrection had taken place only 
fourteen years before our visit, so you can 
imagine the awful state of the country. 

"Our meeting with Gallon was thus abso- 
lutely providential. Looking back on it, I think 
it perhaps saved our lives. We were in Mon- 
70 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

golia (this, you understand, was before we 
reached China), and had spent the night at a 
small Yak about four versts from Kharbin, 
when all of a sudden, just outside the miser- 
able hut that we were in, we heard a perfect 
fusillade of shots followed immediately after- 
wards by one of the most blood-curdling and 
terrifying screams I have ever imagined — " 

"Oh, yes," I said, "and that was how you 
met Gallon. Well, I must be off." 

And as I happened at that very moment to 
be rescued by an incoming friend, who took 
but little interest in lions, and even less in Yar- 
ner, I have still to learn why the lion howled so 
when it met Yarner. But surely the lion had 
reason enough. 



7? 



4.— The Spiritual Outlook of 
Mr. Doomer 

ONE generally saw old Mr. Doomer 
looking gloomily out of the win- 
dows of the library of the club. If 
not there, he was to be found star- 
ing sadly into the embers of a dying fire in a 
deserted sitting-room. 

His gloom always appeared out of place as 
he was one of the richest of the members. 

But the cause of it, — as I came to know, — 
was that he was perpetually concerned with 
thinking about the next world. In fact he 
spent his whole time brooding over it. 

I discovered this accidentally by happening 
to speak to him of the recent death of Podge, 
one of our fellow members. 

"Very sad," I said, "Podge's death." 
"Ah," returned Mr. Doomer, "very shock- 
ing. He was quite unprepared to die." 

72 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

"Do you think so?" I said, "I'm awfully 
sorry to hear it." 

"Quite unprepared," he answered. "I had 
reason to know it as one of his executors, — 
everything is confusion, — nothing signed, — no 
proper power of attorney, — codicils drawn up 
in blank and never witnessed, — in short, sir, 
no sense apparently of the nearness of his death 
and of his duty to be prepared. 

"I suppose," I said, "poor Podge didn't re- 
alise that he was going to die." 

"Ah, that's just it," resumed Mr. Doomer 
with something like sternness, "a man ought 
to realise it. Every man ought to feel that at 
any moment,— one can't tell when, — day or 
night, — he may be called upon to meet his," — 
Mr. Doomer paused here as if seeking a phrase 
— "to meet his Financial Obligations, face to 
face. At any time, sir, he may be hurried be- 
fore the Judge, — or rather his estate may be, 
— before the Judge of the probate court. It 
is a solemn thought, sir. And yet when I come 
here I see about me men laughing, talking, and 
playing billiards, as if there would never be a 
73 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

day when their estate would pass into the hands 
of their administrators and an account must be 
given of every cent." 

"But after all," I said, trying to fall in with 
his mood, "death and dissolution must come to 
all of us." 

"That's just it," he said solemnly. "They've 
dissolved the tobacco people, and they've dis- 
solved the oil people and you can't tell whose 
turn it may be next." 

Mr. Doomer was silent a moment and then 
resumed, speaking in a tone of humility that 
was almost reverential. 

"And yet there is a certain preparedness for 
death, a certain fitness to die that we ought all 
to aim at. Any man can at least think sol- 
emnly of the Inheritance Tax, and reflect 
whether by a contract inter vivos drawn in 
blank he may not obtain redemption; any man 
if he thinks death is near may at least divest 
himself of his purely speculative securities and 
trust himself entirely to those gold bearing 
bonds -of the great industrial corporations 
whose value will not readily diminish or pass 

74 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

away." Mr. Doomer was speaking with some- 
thing like religious rapture. 

"And yet what does one see?" he continued. 
"Men affected with fatal illness and men 
stricken in years occupied still with idle talk 
and amusements instead of reading the financial 
newspapers, — and at the last carried away with 
scarcely time perhaps to send for their brokers 
when it is already too late." 

"It is very sad," I said. 

"Very," he repeated, "and saddest of all, 
perhaps, is the sense of the irrevocability of 
death and the changes that must come after 
it." 

We were silent a moment. 

"You think of these things a great deal, Mr. 
Doomer?" I said. 

"I do," he answered. "It may be that it is 
something in my temperament, I suppose one 
would call it a sort of spiritual mindedness. 
But I think of it all constantly. Often as I 
stand here beside the window and see these 
cars go by"- — he indicated a passing street car 
— "I cannot but realise that the time will come 
75 



Moonbeams from the Larger JLumacy 

when I am no longer a managing director and 
wonder whether they will keep on trying to 
hold the dividend down by improving the roll- 
ing stock or will declare profits to inflate the 
securities. These mysteries beyond the grave 
fascinate me, sir. Death is a mysterious thing. 
Who for example will take my seat on the Ex- 
change? What will happen to my majority 
control of the power company? I shudder to 
think of the changes that may happen after 
death in the assessment of my real estate." 

"Yes," I said, "it is all beyond our control, 
isn't it?" 

"Quite," answered Mr. Doomer; "especially 
of late years one feels that, a T l said and done, 
we are in the hands of a Higher Power, and 
that the State Legislature is after all supreme. 
It gives one a sense of smallness. It makes one 
feel that in these days of drastic legislation 
with all one's efforts the individual is lost and 
absorbed in the controlling power of the state 
legislature. Consider the words that are used 
in the text of the Income Tax Case, Folio Two, 
or the text of the Trans-Missouri Freight De- 

7 6 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

cision, and think of the revelation they con- 
tain." 

I left Mr. Doomer still standing beside the 
window, musing on the vanity of life and on 
things, such as the future control of freight 
rates, that lay beyond the grave. 

I noticed as I left him how broken and aged 
he had come to look. It seemed as if the chaf- 
ings of the spirit were wearing the body that 
harboured it. 



It was about a month later that I learned of 
Mr. Doomer's death. 

Dr. Slyder told me of it in the club one af- 
ternoon, over two cocktails in the sitting-room. 

"A beautiful bedside," he said, "one of the 
most edifying that I have ever attended. I 
knew that Doomer was failing and of course 
the time came when I had to tell him. 

" 'Mr. Doomer,' I said, 'all that I, all that 
any medical can do for you is done; you are 
going to die. I have to warn you that it is 
time for other ministrations than mine.' 
77 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

" 'Very good,' he said faintly but firmly, 
'send for my broker.' 

"They sent out and fetched Jarvis, — you 
know him I think, — most sympathetic man and 
yet most business-like — he does all the firm's 
business with the dying, — and we two sat be- 
side Doomer holding him up while he signed 
stock transfers and blank certificates. 

"Once he paused and turned his eyes on Jar- 
vis. 'Read me from the text of the State In- 
heritance Tax Statute,' he said. Jarvis took 
the book and read aloud very quietly and simply 
the part at the beginning — 'Whenever and 
wheresoever it shall appear,' down to the 
words, 'shall be no longer a subject of judg- 
ment or appeal but shall remain in perpetual 
possession.' 

"Doomer listened with his eyes closed. The 
reading seemed to bring him great comfort. 
When Jarvis ended he said with a sign, 'That 
covers it. I'll put my faith in that' After that 
he was silent a moment and then said: 'I wish 
I had already crossed the river. Oh, to have 
already crossed the river and be safe on the 

7 8 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

other side.' We knew what he meant. He had 
always planned to move over to New Jersey. 
The inheritance tax is so much more liberal. 

"Presently it was all done. 

" 'There,' I said, 'it is finished now.' 

" 'No/ he answered, 'there is still one thing. 
Doctor, you've been very good to me. I should 
like to pay your account now without it being 
a charge on the estate. I will pay it as* — he 
paused for a moment and a fit of coughing 
seized him, but by an effort of will he found 
the power to say — 'cash.' 

"I took the account from my pocket (I had 
it with, me, fearing the worst) , and we laid his 
cheque-book before him on the bed. Jarvis 
thinking him too faint to write tried to guide 
his hand as he filled in the sum. But he shook 
his head. 

" 'The room is getting dim,' he said. 'I 
can see nothing but the figures.' 

11 'Never mind,' said Jarvis, — much moved, 
'that's enough.' 

" 'Is it four hundred and thirty?' he asked 
faintly. 

79 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

44 'Yes/ I said, and I could feel the tears ris- 
ing in my eyes, 'and fifty cents/ 

"After signing the cheque his mind wandered 
for a moment and he fell to talking, with his 
eyes closed, of the new federal banking law, 
and of the prospect of the reserve associations 
being able to maintain an adequate gold supply. 

"Just at the last he rallied. 

14 'I want/ he said in quite a firm voice, 'to 
do something for both of you before I die.' 

44 'Yes, yes/ we said. 

44 'You are both interested, are you not/ he 
murmured, 'in City Traction?' 

" 'Yes, yes/ we said. We knew of course 
that he was the managing director. 

"He looked at us faintly and tried to speak. 

" 'Give him a cordial/ said Jarvis. But he 
found his voice. 

" 'The value of that stock/ he said, 'is going 
to take a sudden ' 

"His voice grew faint. 

" 'Yes, yes/ I whispered, bending over him 
(there were tears in both our eyes), 'tell me 
is it going up, or going down?' 
80 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

" 'It is going' — he murmured, — then his 
eyes closed — 'it is going ' 

" 'Yes, yes,' I said, 'which?' 

" 'It is going' — he repeated feebly and then, 
quite suddenly he fell back on the pillows and 
his soul passed. And we never knew which 
way it was going. It was very sad. Later on, 
of course, after he was dead, we knew, as 
everybody knew, that it went down." 



81 



5.— The Reminiscences of 
Mr. Apricot 

RATHER a cold day, isn't it?" I said 
as I entered the club. 
The man I addressed popped his 
head out from behind a newspaper 
and I saw it was old Mr. Apricot. So I was 
sorry that I had spoken. 

''Not so cold as the winter of 1866," he said, 
beaming with benevolence. 

He had an egg-shaped head, bald, with some 
white hair fluffed about the sides of it. He had 
a pink face with large blue eyes, behind his 
spectacles, benevolent to the verge of imbe- 
cility. 

"Was that a cold winter?" I asked. 
"Bitter cold," he said. "I have never told 
you, have I, of my early experiences in life?" 

"I think I have heard you mention them," I 
murmured, but he had already placed a detain- 

82 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

ing hand on my sleeve. "Sit down," he said. 
Then he continued: "Yes, it was a cold win- 
ter. I was going to say that it was the coldest 
I have ever experienced, but that might be an 
exaggeration. But it was certainly colder than 
any winter that you have ever seen, or that we 
ever have now, or are likely to have. In fact 
the winters now are a mere nothing," — here 
Mr. Apricot looked toward the club window 
where the driven snow was beating in eddies 
against the panes, — "simply nothing. One 
doesn't feel them at all," — here he turned his 
eyes towards the glowing fire that flamed in 
the open fireplace. "But when I was a boy 
things were very different. I have probably 
never mentioned to you, have I, the circum- 
stances of my early life?" 

He had, many times. But he had turned 
upon me the full beam of his benevolent spec- 
tacles and I was too weak to interrupt. 

"My father," went on Mr. Apricot, settling 
back in his chair and speaking with a far-away 
look in his eyes, "had settled on the banks of 

the Wabash River " 

83 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"Oh, yes, I know it well," I interjected. 

"Not as it was then," said Mr. Apricot very 
quickly. "At present as you, or any other 
thoughtless tourist sees it, it appears a broad 
river pouring its vast flood in all directions. 
At the time I speak of it was a mere stream 
scarcely more than a few feet in circumference. 
The life we led there was one of rugged isola- 
tion and of sturdy self-reliance and effort such 
as it is, of course, quite impossible for you, or 
any other member of this club to understand, — i 
I may give you some idea of what I mean when 
I say that at that time there was no town nearer 
to Pittsburg than Chicago, or to St. Paul than 
Minneapolis " 

"Impossible!" I said. 

Mr. Apricot seemed not to notice the inter- 
ruption. 

"There was no place nearer to Springfield 
than St. Louis," he went on in a peculiar sing- 
song voice, "and there was nothing nearer to 
Denver than San Francisco, nor to New Or- 
leans than Rio Janeiro n 

He seemed as if he would go on indefinitely. 

84 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

"You were speaking of your father?" I in- 
terrupted. 

"My father/' said Mr. Apricot, "had set- 
tled on the banks, both banks, of the Wabash. 
He was like so many other men of his time, a 
disbanded soldier, a veteran " 

"Of the Mexican War or of the Civil War?" 
I asked. 

"Exactly," answered Mr. Apricot, hardly 
heeding the question, — "of the Mexican Civil 
War." 

"Was he under Lincoln?" I asked. 

"Over Lincoln," corrected Mr. Apricot 
gravely. And he added, — "It is always 
strange to me the way in which the present 
generation regards Abraham Lincoln. To us, 
of course, at the time of which I speak, Lincoln 
was simply one of ourselves." 

"In 1866?" I asked. 

"This was 1856," said Mr. Apricot "He 
came often to my father's cabin, sitting down 
with us to our humble meal of potatoes and 
whiskey (we lived with a simplicity which of 
course you could not possibly understand) , and 

85 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

would spend the evening talking with my father 
over the interpretation of the Constitution of 
the United States. We children used to stand 
beside them listening open-mouthed beside the 
fire in our plain leather nightgowns. I shall 
never forget how I was thrilled when I first 
heard Lincoln lay down his famous theory of 
the territorial jurisdiction of Congress as af- 
fected by the Supreme Court decision of 1857. 
I was only nine years old at the time, but it 
thrilled me!" 

"Is it possible !" I exclaimed, "how ever could 
you understand it?" 

"Ah! my friend," said Mr. Apricot, almost 
sadly, "in those days the youth of the United 
States were educated in the real sense of the 
word. We children followed the decisions of 
the Supreme Court with breathless interest. 
Our books were few but they were good. We 
had nothing to read but the law reports, the 
agriculture reports, the weather bulletins and 
the almanacs. But we read them carefully from 
cover to cover. How few boys have the in- 
dustry to do so now, and yet how many of our 
86 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

greatest men were educated on practically noth- 
ing else except the law reports and the alma- 
nacs. Franklin, Jefferson, Jackson, Johnson," 
— Mr. Apricot had relapsed into his sing-song 
voice, and his eye had a sort of misty perplex- 
ity in it as he went on, — "Harrison, Thomson, 
Peterson, Emerson " 

I thought it better to stop him. 

"But you were speaking," I said, "of the 
winter of eighteen fifty-six." 

"Of eighteen forty-six," corrected Mr. Apri- 
cot. "I shall never forget it. How distinctly 
I remember, — I was only a boy then, in fact a 
mere lad, — fighting my way to school. The 
snow lay in some places as deep as ten feet" — 
Mr. Apricot paused — "and in others twenty. 
But we made our way to school in spite of it. 
No boys of to-day, — nor, for the matter of 
that, even men such as you, — would think of 
attempting it. But we were keen, anxious to 
learn. Our school was our delight. Our 
teacher was our friend. Our books were our 
companions. We gladly trudged five miles to 
school every morning and seven miles back at 

87 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

night, did chores till midnight, studied algebra 
by candlelight" — here Mr. Apricot's voice had 
fallen into its characteristic sing-song, and his 
eyes were vacant — "rose before daylight, 
dressed by lamplight, fed the hogs by lantern- 
light, fetched the cows by twilight " 

I thought it best to stop him. 

"But you did eventually get off the farm, 
did you not?" I asked. 

"Yes," he answered, "my opportunity pres- 
ently came to me as it came in those days to 
any boy of industry and intelligence who 
knocked at the door of fortune till it opened. 
I shall never forget how my first chance in 
life came to me. A man, an entire stranger, 
struck no doubt with the fact that I looked in- 
dustrious and willing, offered me a dollar to 
drive a load of tan bark to the nearest mar- 
ket " 

"Where was that?" I asked. 

"Minneapolis, seven hundred miles. But I 
did it. I shall never forget my feelings when I 
found myself in Minneapolis with one dollar in 
my pocket and with the world all before me." 

88 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

"What did you do?" I said. 

"First," said Mr. Apricot, "I laid out sev- 
enty-five cents for a suit of clothes (things were 
cheap in those days) ; for fifty cents I bought 
an overcoat, for twenty-five I got a hat, for 
ten cents a pair of boots, and with the rest of 
my money I took a room for a month with a 
Swedish family, paid a month's board with a 
German family, arranged to have my washing 
done by an Irish family, and " 

"But surely, Mr. Apricot " I began. 

But at this point the young man who is gen- 
erally in attendance on old Mr. Apricot when 
he comes to the club, appeared on the scene. 

"I am afraid,'' he said to me aside as Mr. 
Apricot was gathering up his newspapers and 
his belongings, "that my uncle has been rather 
boring you with his reminiscences." 

"Not at all," I said, "he's been telling me 
all about his early life in his father's cabin on 
the Wabash " 

"I was afraid so," said the young man. "Too 
bad. You see he wasn't really there at all." 

8 9 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"Not there !" I said. 

"No. He only fancies that he was. He was 
brought up in New York, and has never been 
west of Philadelphia. In fact he has been very 
well to do all his life. But he found that it 
counted against him: it hurt him in politics. 
So he got into the way of talking about the 
Middle West and early days there, and some- 
times he forgets that he wasn't there." 

"I see," I said. 

Meantime Mr. Apricot was ready. 

"Good-bye, good-bye," he said very cheerily, 
— "A delightful chat. We must have another 
talk over old times soon. I must tell you about 
my first trip over the Plains at the time when I 
was surveying the line of the Union Pacific. 
You who travel nowadays in your Pullman 
coaches and observation cars can have no 

idea " 

Come along, uncle," said the young man. 



90 



6 — The Last Man out of 
Europe 

HE came into the club and shook hands 
with me as if he hadn't seen me 
for a year. In reality I had seen 
him only eleven months ago, and 
hadn't thought of him since. 

"How are you, Parkins?" I said in a 
guarded tone, for I saw at once that there was 
something special in his manner. 

"Have a cig?" he said as he sat down on 
the edge of an arm-chair, dangling his little 

boot. 

Any young man who calls a cigarette a "cig" 

I despise. "No, thanks," I said. 

"Try one," he went on, "they're Hungarian. 
They're some I managed to bring through with 
me out of the war zone." 

As he said "war zone," his face twisted up 
into a sort of scowl of self-importance. 
9i 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

I looked at Parkins more closely and I no- 
ticed that he had on some sort of foolish little 
coat, short in the back, and the kind of bow-tie 
that they wear in the Hungarian bands of the 
Sixth Avenue restaurants. 

Then I knew what the trouble was. He was 
the last man out of Europe, that is to say, the 
latest last man. There had been about four- 
teen others in the club that same afternoon. In 
fact they were sitting all over it in Italian suits 
and Viennese overcoats, striking German 
matches on the soles of Dutch boots. These 
were the "war zone" men and they had just 
got out "in the clothes they stood up in." Nat- 
urally they hated to change. 

So I knew all that this young man, Parkins, 
was going to say, and all about his adventures 
before he began. 

"Yes," he said, "we were caught right in the 
war zone. By Jove, I never want to go 
through again what I went through." 

With that, he sank back into the chair in 
the pose of a man musing in silence over the 
recollection of days of horror. 
92 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

I let him muse. In fact I determined to let 
him muse till he burst before I would ask him 
what he had been through. I knew it, anyway. 

Presently he decided to go on talking. 

"We were at Izzl," he said, "in the Car- 
pathians, Loo Jones and I. We'd just made a 
walking tour from Izzl to Fryzzl and back 
again." 

"Why did you come back?" I asked. 

"Back where?" 

"Back to Izzl," I explained, "after you'd 
once got to Fryzzl. It seems unnecessary, but, 
never mind, go on." 

"That was in July," he continued. "There 
wasn't a sign of war, not a sign. We heard 
that Russia was beginning to mobilize," (at 
this word be blew a puff from his cigarette and 
then repeated "beginning to mobilize") "but 
we thought nothing of it." 

"Of course not," I said. 

"Then we heard that Hungary was calling 
out the Honveds, but we still thought nothing 
of it." 

"Certainly not," I said. 
93 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 



'And then we heard- 



"Yes, I know," I said, "you heard that Italy 
was calling out the Trombonari, and that Ger- 
many was calling in all the Landesgeschiitz- 
shaft." 

He looked at me. 

"How did you know that?" he said. 

"We heard it over here," I answered. 

"Well," he went on, "next thing we knew we 
heard that the Russians were at Fryzzl." 

"Great Heavens!" I exclaimed. 

"Yes, at Fryzzl, not a hundred miles away. 
The very place we'd been at only two weeks 
before." 

"Think of it !" I said. "If you'd been where 
you were two weeks after you were there, or 
if the Russians had been a hundred miles away 
from where they were, or even if Fryzzl had 
been a hundred miles nearer to Izzl " 

We both shuddered. 

"It was a close call," said Parkins. "How- 
ever, I said to Loo Jones, 'Loo, it's time to 
clear out.' And then, I tell you, our trouble 
began. First of all we couldn't get any money. 
94 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

We went to the bank at Izzl and tried to get 
them to give us American dollars for Hun- 
garian paper money; we had nothing else." 

"And wouldn't they?" 

"Absolutely refused. They said they hadn't 
any." 

"By George," I exclaimed. "Isn't war 
dreadful? What on earth did you do?" 

"Took a chance," said Parkins. "Went 
across to the railway station to buy our tickets 
with the Hungarian money." 

"Did you get them?" I said. 

"Yes," assented Parkins. "They said they'd 
sell us tickets. But they questioned us mighty 
closely; asked where we wanted to go to, what 
class we meant to travel by, how much luggage 
we had to register and so on. I tell you the 
fellow looked at us mighty closely." 

"Were you in those clothes?" I asked. 

"Yes," said Parkins, "but I guess he sus- 
pected we weren't Hungarians. You see, we 
couldn't either of us speak Hungarian. In fact 
we spoke nothing but English." 

"That would give him a clue," I said. 

95 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy. 

"However," he went on, "he was civil 
enough in a way. We asked when was the 
next train to the sea coast, and he said there 
wasn't any." 

"No trains?" I repeated. 

"Not to the coast. The man said the rea- 
son was because there wasn't any railway to 
the coast. But he offered to sell us tickets to 
Vienna. We asked when the train would go 
and he said there wouldn't be one for two 
hours. So there we were waiting on that 
wretched little platform, — no place to sit down, 
no shade, unless one went into the waiting room 
itself, — for two mortal hours. And even then 
the train was an hour and a half late!" 

"An hour and a half late!" I repeated. 

"Yep!" said Parkins, "that's what things 
were like over there. So when we got on board 
the train we asked a man when it was due to 
get to Vienna, and he said he hadn't the faint- 
est idea!" 

"Good heavens!" 

"Not the faintest idea. He told us to ask 
the conductor or one of the porters. No, sir, 

96 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

I'll never forget that journey through to 
Vienna, — nine mortal hours ! Nothing to eat, 
not a bite, except just in the middle of the day 
when they managed to hitch on a dining-car 
for a while. And they warned everybody that 
the dining-car was only on for an hour and a 
half. Commandeered, I guess after that," 
added Parkins, puffing his cigarette. 

"Well," he continued, "we got to Vienna at 
last. I'll never forget the scene there, station 
full of people, trains coming and going, men, 
even women, buying tickets, big piles of lug- 
gage being shoved on trucks. It gave one a 
great idea of the reality of things." 

"It must have," I said. 

"Poor old Loo Jones was getting pretty well 
used up with it all. However, we determined 
to see it through somehow." 

"What did you do next?" 

"Tried again to get money: couldn't — they 
changed our Hungarian paper into Italian gold, 
but they refused to give us American money." 

"Hoarding it?" I hinted. 

"Exactly," said Parkins, "hoarding it all 
97 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

for the war. Well anyhow we got on a train 
for Italy and there our troubles began all over 
again: — train stopped at the frontier, — officials 
(fellows in Italian uniforms) went all through 
it, opening hand baggage " 

"Not hand baggage!" I gasped 

"Yes. sir, even the hand baggage. Opened 
it all, or a lot of it anyway, and scribbled chalk 
marks over it. Yes, and worse than that. — I 
saw them take two fellows and sling them clear 
off the train. — they slung them right out on to 
the platform." 

"What for?" I asked. 

''Heaven knows," said Parkins, — "they said 
they had no tickets. In war time you know, 
when they're mobilizing, they won't let a soul 
ride on a train without a ticket." 

"Infernal tyranny/ 1 I murmured. 

"Isn't it? However, we got to Genoa at 
last, only to find that not a single one of our 
trunks had come with m 

''Confiscated ?" I asked. 

"I don't know," said Parkins, "the head bag- 
gage man (he wears a uniform, you know, in 

9 8 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

Italy just like a soldier) said it was because 
we'd forgotten to check them in Vienna. How- 
ever there we were waiting for twenty-four 
hours with nothing but our valises." 

"Right at the station?" I asked. 

"No, at a hotel. We got the trunks later. 
They telegraphed to Vienna for them and man- 
aged to get them through somehow, — in a 
baggage car, I believe." 

"And after that, I suppose, you had no more 
trouble." 

"Trouble," said Parkins. "I should say we 
had. Couldn't get a steamer ! They said there 
was none sailing out of Genoa for New York 
for three days ! All cancelled, I guess, or else 
rigged up as cruisers." 

'What on earth did you do?" 

"Stuck it out as best we could: stayed right 
there in the hotel. Poor old Jones was pretty 
well collapsed ! Couldn't do anything but sleep 
and eat, arid sit on the piazza of the hotel." 

"But you got your steamer at last?" I 
asked. 

"Yes," he admitted, "we got it. But I r. 
99 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

want to go through another voyage like that 
again, no sir!" 

"What was wrong with it?" I asked, "bad 
weather?" 

"No, calm, but a peculiar calm, glassy, with 
little ripples on the water, — uncanny sort of 
feeling." 

"What was wrong with the voyage?" 

"Oh, just the feeling of it, — everything un- 
der strict rule you know — no lights anywhere 
except just the electric lights, — smoking-room 
closed tight at eleven o'clock, — decks all 
washed down every night — officers up on the 
bridge all day looking out over the sea, — no, 
sir, I want no more of it. Poor old Loo Jones, 
I guess he's quite used up: he can't speak of 
it at all: just sits and broods, in fact I 
doubt . . ." 



At this moment Parkins's conversation was 
interrupted by the entry of two newcomers into 
the room. One of them had on a little Hun- 
garian suit like the one Parkins wore, and was 
talking loudly as they came in. 
ioo 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

"Yes," he was saying, u we were caught there 
fair and square right in the war zone. We 
were at Izzl in the Carpathians, poor old Park- 
ins and I " 

We looked round. 

It was Loo Jones, describing his escape from 
Europe. 



IOI 



7—T*\e War Mania of Mr. Jinks 
and Mr. Blinks 

THEY were sitting face to face at a 
lunch table at the club so near to 
me that I couldn't avoid hearing 
what they said. In any case they 
are both stout men with gurgling voices which 
carry. 

"What Kitchener ought to do," — Jinks was 
saying in a loud voice. 

So I knew at once that he had the prevailing 
hallucination. He thought he was command- 
ing armies in Europe. 

After which I watched him show with three 
bits of bread and two olives and a dessert knife 
the way in which the German army could be 
destroyed. 

Blinks looked at Jinks' diagram with a stern 
102 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

impassive face, modelled on the Sunday sup- 
plement photogravures of Lord Kitchener. 

"Your flank would be too much exposed," 
he said, pointing to Jinks' bread. He spoke 
with the hard taciturnity of a Joffre. 

"My reserves cover it," said Jinks, moving 
two pepper pots to the support of the bread. 

"Mind you," Jinks went on, "I don't say 
Kitchener will do this: I say this is what he 
ought to do: it's exactly the tactics of Kuro- 
patkin outside of Mukden and it's precisely the 
same turning movement that Grant used be- 
fore Richmond." 

Blinks nodded gravely. Anybody who has 
seen the Grand Duke Nicholoevitch quietly ac- 
cepting the advice of General Ruski under 
heavy artillery fire, will realize Blinks' manner 
to a nicety. 

And, oddly enough, neither of them, I am 
certain, has ever had any larger ideas about 
the history of the Civil War than what can be 
got from reading Uncle Torn 's Cabin and 
seeing Gillette play Secret Service. But this 
is part of the mania. Jinks and Blinks had 
103 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

suddenly developed the hallucination that they 
knew the history of all wars by a sort of in- 
stinct. 

They rose soon after that, dusted off their 
waistcoats with their napkins and waddled 
heavily towards the door. I could hear them 
as they went talking eagerly of the need of 
keeping the troops in hard training. They were 
almost brutal in their severity. As they passed 
out of the door, — one at a time to avoid crowd- 
ing, — they were still talking about it. Jinks 
was saying that our whole generation is over- 
fed and soft. If he had his way he would take 
every man in the United States up to forty- 
seven years of age (Jinks is forty-eight) and 
train him to a shadow. Blinks went further. 
He said they should be trained hard up to 
fifty. He is fifty-one. 

After that I used to notice Jinks and Blinks 
always together in the club, and always carry- 
ing on the European War. 

I never knew which side they were on. They 
seemed to be on both. One day they com- 
manded huge armies of Russians, and there 
104 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

was one week when Blinks and Jinks at the 
head of vast levies of Cossacks threatened to 
overrun the whole of Western Europe. It was 
dreadful to watch them burning churches and 
monasteries and to see Jinks throw whole con- 
vents full of white robed nuns into the flames 
like so much waste paper. 

For a time I feared they would obliterate 
civilization itself. Then suddenly Blinks de- 
cided that Jinks' Cossacks were no good, not 
properly trained. He converted himself on the 
spot into a Prussian Field Marshal, declared 
himself organised to a pitch of organisation of 
which Jinks could form no idea, and swept 
Jinks' army off the earth, without using any 
men at all, by sheer organisation. 

In this way they moved to and fro all winter 
over the map of Europe, carrying death and 
destruction everywhere and revelling in it. 

But I think I liked best the wild excitement 
of their naval battles. 

Jinks generally fancied himself a submarine 
and Blinks acted the part of a first-class battle- 
ship. Jinks would pop his periscope out of the 
105 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

water, take a look at Blinks merely for the 
fraction of a second, and then, like a flash, 
would dive under water again and start firing 
his torpedoes. He explained that he carried 
six. 

But he was never quick enough for Blinks. 
One glimpse of his periscope miles and miles 
away was enough. Blinks landed him a contact 
shell in the side, sunk him with all hands, and 
then lined his yards with men and cheered. 
I have known Blinks sink Jinks at two miles, 
six miles — and once — in the club billiard room 
just after the battle of the Falkland Islands, — 
he got him fair and square at ten nautical miles. 

Jinks of course claimed that he was not sunk. 
He had dived. He was two hundred feet un- 
der water quietly smiling at Blinks through his 
periscope. In fact the number of things that 
Jinks has learned to do through his periscope 
passes imagination. 

Whenever I see him looking across at 

Blinks with his eyes half closed and with a 

baffling, quizzical expression in them, I know 

that he is looking at him through his periscope. 

106 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

Now is the time for Blinks to watch out. If he 
relaxes his vigilance for a moment he'll be tor- 
pedoed as he sits, and sent flying, whiskey and 
soda and all, through the roof of the club, 
while Jinks dives into the basement. 

Indeed it has come about of late, I don't 
know just how, that Jinks has more or less got 
command of the sea. A sort of tacit under- 
standing has been reached that Blinks, which- 
ever army he happens at the moment to com- 
mand, is invincible on land. But Jinks, whether 
as a submarine or a battleship, controls the 
sea. No doubt this grew up in the natural 
evolution of their conversation. It makes 
things easier for both. Jinks even asks Blinks 
how many men there are in an army division, 
and what a sotnia of Cossacks is and what the 
Army Service Corps means. And Jinks in re- 
turn has become a recognized expert in tor- 
pedoes and has taken to wearing a blue serge 
suit and referring to Lord Beresford as 
Charley. 

But what I noticed chiefly about the war 
mania of Jinks and Blinks was their splendid 
107 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

indifference to slaughter. They had gone into 
tne war with a grim resolution to fight it out 
to a finish. If Blinks thought to terrify Jinks 
by threatening to burn London, he little knew 
his man. "All right," said Jinks, taking a 
fresh light for his cigar, "burn it! By doing 
so, you destroy, let us say, two million of my 
women and children? Very good. Am I in- 
jured by that? No. You merely stimulate me 
to recruiting." 

There was something awful in the grimness 
of the struggle as carried on by Blinks and 
Jinks. 

The rights of neutrals and non-combatants, 
Red Cross nurses, and regimental clergymen 
they laughed to scorn. As for moving-picture 
men and newspaper correspondents, Jinks and 
Blinks hanged them on every tree in Belgium 
and Poland. 

With combatants in this frame of mind the 
war I suppose might have lasted forever. 

But it came to an end accidentally, — for- 
tuitously, as all great wars are apt to. And by 
accident also, I happened to see the end of it. 
108 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

It was late one evening. Jinks and Blinks 
were coming down the steps of the club, and as 
they came they were speaking with some ve- 
hemence on their favourite topic. 

"I tell you," Jinks was saying, "war is a 
great thing. We needed it, Blinks. We were 
all getting too soft, too scared of suffering and 
pain. We wilt at a bayonet charge, we shud- 
der at the thought of wounds. Bah!" he con- 
tinued, "what does it matter if a few hundred 
thousands of human beings are cut to pieces. 
We need to get back again to the old Viking 
standard, the old pagan ideas of suffering " 

And as he spoke he got it. 

The steps of the club were slippery with the 
evening's rain, — not so slippery as the frozen 
lakes of East Prussia or the hills where Jinks 
and Blinks had been campaigning all winter, 
but slippery enough for a stout man whose na- 
tion has neglected his training. As Jinks waved 
his stick in the air to illustrate the glory of a 
bayonet charge, he slipped and fell sideways on 
the stone steps. His shin bone smacked against 
the edge of the stone in a way that was pretty 
109 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

well up to the old Viking standard of such 
things. Blinks with the shock of the collision 
fell also, — backwards on the top step, his head 
striking first. He lay, to all appearance, as 
dead as the most insignificant casualty in 
Servia. 

I watched the waiters carrying them into the 
club, with that new field ambulance attitude to- 
wards pain which is getting so popular. They 
had evidently acquired precisely the old pagan 
attitude that Blinks and Jinks desired. 

And the evening after that I saw Blinks and 
Jinks, both more or less bandaged, sitting in a 
corner of the club beneath a rubber tree, mak- 
ing peace. 

Jinks was moving out of Montenegro and 
Blinks was foregoing all claims to Polish Prus- 
sia; Jinks was offering Alsace-Lorraine to 
Blinks, and Blinks in a fit of chivalrous enthusi- 
asm was refusing to take it. They were dis- 
banding troops, blowing up fortresses, sinking 
their warships and offering indemnities which 
they both refused to take. Then as they talked, 
Jinks leaned forward and said something to 
no 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

Blinks in a low voice, — a final proposal of 
terms evidently. 

Blinks nodded, and Jinks turned and beck- 
oned to a waiter, with the words, — 

"One Scotch whiskey and soda, and one stein 
of Wurtemburger Bier " 

And when I heard this, I knew that the war 
was over. 



in 



8.— The Ground Floor 

I HADN'T seen Ellesworth since our col- 
lege days, twenty years before, at the 
time when he used to borrow two dol- 
lars and a half from the professor of 
Public Finance to tide him over the week end. 
Then quite suddenly he turned up at the 
club one day and had afternoon tea with me. 

His big clean shaven face had lost nothing 
of its impressiveness, and his spectacles had 
the same glittering magnetism as in the days 
when he used to get the college bursar to ac- 
cept his note of hand for his fees. 

And he was still talking European politics 
just as he used to in the days of our earlier 
acquaintance. 

"Mark my words," he said across the little 

tea-table, with one of the most piercing glances 

I have ever seen, "the whole Balkan situation 

was only a beginning. We are on the eve of a 

112 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

great pan-Slavonic upheaval." And then he 
added, in a very quiet, casual tone: "By the 
way, could you let me have twenty-five dollars 
till to-morrow ?" 

"A pan-Slavonic movement!" I ejaculated. 
"Do you really think it possible? No, I 
couldn't." 

"You must remember," Ellesworth went on, 
"Russia means to reach out and take all she 
can get;" and he added, "how about fifteen till 
Friday?" 

"She may reach for it," I said, "but I doubt 
if she'll get anything. I'm sorry. I haven't 
got it." 

"You're forgetting the Bulgarian element," 
he continued, his animation just as eager as 
before. "The Slavs never forget what they 
owe to one another." 

Here Ellesworth drank a sip of tea and then 
said quietly, "Could you make it ten till Satur- 
day at twelve?" 

I looked at him more closely. I noticed now 
his frayed cuffs and the dinginess of his over- 
brushed clothes. Not even the magnetism of 
113 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

his spectacles could conceal it. Perhaps I had 
been forgetting something, whether the Bul- 
garian element or not. 

I compromised at ten dollars till Saturday. 

"The Slav," said Ellesworth, as he pocketed 
the money, "is peculiar. He never forgets." 

"What are you doing now?" I asked him. 
"Are you still in insurance?" I had a vague 
recollection of him as employed in that busi- 
ness. 

"No," he answered. "I gave it up. I didn't 
like the outlook. It was too narrow. The at- 
mosphere cramped me. I want," he said, "a 
bigger horizon." 

"Quite so," I answered quietly. I had known 
men before who had lost their jobs. It is gen- 
erally the cramping of the atmosphere that does 
it. Some of them can use up a tremendous lot 
of horizon. 

"At present," Ellesworth went on, "I am in 
finance. I'm promoting companies." 

"Oh, yes," I said. I had seen companies 
promoted before. 

"Just now," continued Ellesworth, "I'm 
114 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

working on a thing that I think will be rather 
a big thing. I shouldn't want it talked about 
outside, but it's a matter of taking hold of the 
cod fisheries of the Grand Banks, — practically 
amalgamating them — and perhaps combining 
with them the entire herring output, and the 
whole of the sardine catch of the Mediterra- 
nean. If it goes through," he added, "I shall 
be in a position to let you in on the ground 
floor." 

I knew the ground floor of old. I have al- 
ready many friends sitting on it; and others 
who have fallen through it into the basement. 

I said, "thank you," and he left me. 

"That was Ellesworth, wasn't it?" said a 
friend of mine who was near me. "Poor devil. 
I knew him slightly, — always full of some new 
and wild idea of making money. He was talk- 
ing to me the other day of the possibility of 
cornering all the huckleberry crop and making 
refined sugar. Isn't it amazing what fool ideas 
fellows like him are always putting up to busi- 
ness men?" 

We both laughed. 

115 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

After that I didn't see Ellesworth for some 
weeks. 

Then I met him in the club again. How he 
paid his fees there I do not know. 

This time he was seated among a litter of 
foreign newspapers with a cup of tea and a ten- 
cent package of cigarettes beside him. 

"Have one of these cigarettes, " he said. "I 
get them specially. They are milder than what 
we have in the club here." 

They certainly were. 

''Note what I say," Ellesworth went on. 
"The French Republic is going to gain from 
now on a stability that it never had." He 
seemed greatly excited about it. But his voice 
changed to a quiet tone as he added, "Could 
you, without inconvenience, let me have five 
dollars?" 

So I knew that the cod-fish and the sardines 
were still unamalgamated. 

"What about the fisheries thing?" I asked. 
"Did it go through?" 

"The fisheries? No, I gave it up. I re- 
fused to go forward with it. The New York 
116 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

people concerned were too shy, too timid to 
tackle it. I finally had to put it to them very 
straight that they must either stop shilly-shally- 
ing and declare themselves, or the whole busi- 
ness was off." 

"Did they declare themselves?" I ques- 
tioned. 

"They did," said Ellesworth, "but I don't 
regret it. I'm working now on a much bigger 
thing, — something with greater possibilities in 
it. When the right moment comes I'll let you 
in on the ground floor." 

I thanked him and we parted. 

The next time I saw Ellesworth he told me 
at once that he regarded Albania as unable to 
stand by itself. So I gave him five dollars on 
the spot and left him. 

A few days after that he called me up on the 
telephone to tell me that the whole of Asia 
Minor would have to be redistributed. The 
redistribution cost me five dollars more. 

Then I met him on the street, and he said 
that Persia was disintegrating, and took from 
me a dollar and a half. 

117 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

When I passed him next in the street he was 
very busy amalgamating Chinese tramways. It 
appeared that there was a ground floor in 
China, but I kept off it. 

Each time I saw Ellesworth he looked a 
little shabbier than the last. Then one day he 
called me up on the telephone, and made an 
appointment. 

His manner when I joined him was full of 
importance. 

"I want you at once," he said in a command- 
ing tone, "to write me your cheque for a hun- 
dred dollars." 

"What's the matter ?" I asked. 

"I am now able," said Ellesworth, "to put 
you in on the ground floor of one of the biggest 
things in years." 

"Thanks," I said, "the ground floor is no 
place for me." 

"Don't misunderstand me," said Ellesworth. 
"This is a big thing. It's an idea I've been 
working on for some time, — making refined 
sugar from the huckleberry crop. It's a cer- 
tainty. I can get you shares now at five dol- 
118 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

lars. They'll go to five hundred when we put 
them on the market, — and I can run you in for 
a block of stock for promotion services as well. 
All you have to do is to give me right now a 
hundred dollars, — cash or your cheque, — and I 
can arrange the whole thing for you." 

I smiled. 

"My dear Ellesworth," I said, "I hope you 
won't mind if I give you a little bit of good ad- 
vice. Why not drop all this idea of quick 
money? There's nothing in it. The business 
world has grown too shrewd for it. Take an 
ordinary decent job and stick to it. Let me use 
my influence," I added, "to try and get you into 
something with a steady salary, and with your 
brains you're bound to get on in time." 

Ellesworth looked pained. A "steady job" 
sounded to him like a "ground floor" to me. 

After that I saw nothing of him for weeks. 
But I didn't forget him. I looked about and 
secured for him a job as a canvassing agent for 
a book firm at a salary of five dollars a 
week, and a commission of one-tenth of one 
per cent. 

119 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

I was waiting to tell him of his good luck, 
when I chanced to see him at the club again. 

But he looked transformed. 

He had on a long frock coat that reached 
nearly to his knees. He was leading a little 
procession of very heavy men in morning coats, 
upstairs towards the private luncheon rooms. 
They moved like a funeral, puffing as they 
went. I had seen company directors before and 
I knew what they were at sight. 

"It's a small club and rather inconvenient," 
Ellesworth was saying, "and the horizon of 
some of its members rather narrow," here he 
nodded to me as he passed, — "but I can give 
you a fairly decent lunch." 

I watched them as they disappeared upstairs. 

"That's Ellesworth, isn't it?" said a man 
near me. It was the same man who had asked 
about him before. 

"Yes," I answered. 

"Giving a lunch to his directors, I suppose," 
said my friend; "lucky dog." 

"His directors?" I asked. 

"Yes, hadn't you heard? He's just cleaned 
120 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

up half a million or more, — some new scheme 
for making refined sugar out of huckleberries. 
Isn't it amazing what shrewd ideas these big 
business men get hold of? They say they're 
unloading the stock at five hundred dollars. It 
only cost them about five to organize. If only 
one could get on to one of these things early 
enough, eh?" 

I assented sadly. 

And the next time I am offered a chance on 
the ground floor I am going to take it, even if 
it's only the barley floor of a brewery. 

It appears that there is such a place after all. 



121 



9.— The Hallucination of Mr. Butt 

IT is the hallucination of Mr. Butt's life 
that he lives to do good. At whatever 
cost of time or trouble to himself, he 
does it. Whether people appear to de- 
sire it or not, he insists on helping them along. 
His time, his company and his advice are at 
the service not only of those who seek them 
but of those who, in the mere appearances of 
things, are not asking for them. 

You may see the beaming face of Mr. Butt 
appear at the door of all those of his friends 
who are stricken with the minor troubles of 
life. Whenever Mr. Butt learns that any of 
his friends are moving house, buying furni- 
ture, selling furniture, looking for a maid, dis- 
missing a maid, seeking a chauffeur, suing a 
plumber or buying a piano, — he is at their side 
in a moment. 

122 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

So when I met him one night in the cloak 
room of the club putting on his raincoat and 
his galoshes with a peculiar beaming look on 
his face, I knew that he was up to some sort of 
benevolence. 

"Come upstairs," I said, "and play billiards." 
I saw from his general appearance that it was 
a perfectly safe offer. 

"My dear fellow," said Mr. Butt, "I only 
wish I could. I wish I had the time. I am 
sure it would cheer you up immensely if I could. 
But I'm just going out." 

"Where are you off to?" I asked, for I knew 
he wanted me to say it. 

"I'm going out to see the Everleigh- Joneses, 
— you know them? no? — just come to the city, 
you know, moving into their new house, out on 
Seldom Avenue." 

"But," I said, "that's away out in the sub- 
urbs, is it not, a mile or so beyond the car 
tracks?" 

"Something like that," answered Mr. Butt. 

"And it's going on for ten o'clock and it's 

starting to rain " 

123 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"Pooh, pooh," said Mr. Butt, cheerfully, ad- 
justing his galoshes. "I never mind the rain, 
— does one good. As to their house. I've not 
been there yet but I can easily find it. I've a 
very simple system for finding a house at night 
by merely knocking at the doors in the neigh- 
borhood till I get it. ,, 

"Isn't it rather late to go there?" I pro- 
tested. 

"My dear fellow," said Mr. Butt warmly, 
"I don't mind that a bit. The way I look at it 
is, here are these two young people, only mar- 
ried a few weeks, just moving into their new 
house, everything probably upside down, no 
one there but themselves, no one to cheer them 
up," — he was wriggling into his raincoat as 
he spoke and working himself into a frenzy of 
benevolence, — "good gracious, I only learned 
at dinner time that they had come to town, or 
I'd have been out there days ago, — days 



ago 

And with that Mr. Butt went bursting forth 
into the rain, his face shining with good will 
under the street lamps. 
124 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

The next day I saw him again at the club at 
lunch time. 

"Well," I asked, "did you find the Joneses?" 

"I did," said Mr. Butt, "and by George I 
was glad that I'd gone — quite a lot of trouble 
to find the house (though I didn't mind that; 
I expected it) — had to knock at twenty houses 
at least to get it, — very dark and wet out there, 
— no street lights yet, — however I simply 
pounded at the doors until some one showed a 
light — at every house I called out the same 
things, 'Do you know where the Everleigh 
Joneses live ?' They didn't. 'All right,' I said, 
'go back to bed. Don't bother to come down.' 

"But I got to the right spot at last. I found 
the house all dark. Jones put his head out of 
an upper window. 'Hullo,' I called out; 'it's 
Butt' 'I'm awfully sorry,' he said, 'we've gone 
to bed.' 'My dear boy,' I called back, 'don't 
apologize at all. Throw me down the key 
and I'll wait while you dress. I don't mind 
a bit.' 

"Just think of it," continued Mr. Butt, 
"those two poor souls going to bed at half past 
125 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

ten, through sheer dullness! By George, I 
was glad I'd come. 'Now then/ I said to my- 
self, 'let's cheer them up a little, let's make 
things a little brighter here.' 

"Well, down they came and we sat there on 
furniture cases and things and had a chat. 
Mrs. Jones wanted to make me some coffee. 
'My dear girl,' I said (I knew them both when 
they were children) 'I absolutely refuse. Let 
me make it.' They protested. I insisted. I 
went at it, — kitchen all upset — had to open at 
least twenty tins to get the coffee. However, I 
made it at last. 'Now,' I said, 'drink it' They 
said they had some an hour or so ago. 'Non- 
sense,' I said, 'drink it.' Well, we sat and 
chatted away till midnight. They were dull at 
first and I had to do all the talking. But I set 
myself to it. I can talk, you know, when I try. 
Presently about midnight they seemed to 
brighten up a little. Jones looked at his watch. 
'By Jove,' he said, in an animated way, 'it's 
after midnight.' I think he was pleased at the 
way the evening was going; after that we 
chatted away more comfortably. Every little 
126 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

while Jones would say, 'By Jove, it's half past 
twelve,' or 'it's one o'clock,' and so on. 

"I took care, of course, not to stay too late. 
But when I left them I promised that I'd come 
back to-day to help straighten things up. They 
protested, but I insisted." 

That same day Mr. Butt went out to the sub- 
urbs and put the Joneses' furniture to rights. 

"I worked all afternoon," he told me after- 
wards, — "hard at it with my coat off — got the 
pictures up first — they'd been trying to put 
them up by themselves in the morning. I had 
to take down every one of them — not a single 
one right, — 'Down they come,' I said, and went 
at it with a will." 

A few days later Mr. Butt gave me a further 
report. "Yes," he said, "the furniture is all 
unpacked and straightened out but I don't like 
it. There's a lot of it I don't quite like. I half 
feel like advising Jones to sell it and get some 
more. But I don't want to do that till I'm 
quite certain about it." 

After that Mr. Butt seemed much occupied 
and I didn't see him at the club for some time. 
127 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"How about the Everleigh- Joneses?" I 
asked. "Are they comfortable in their new 
house?" 

Mr. Butt shook his head. "It won't do," he 
said. "I was afraid of it from the first. I'm 
moving Jones in nearer to town. I've been out 
all morning looking for an apartment; when I 
get the right one I shall move him. I like an 
apartment far better than a house." 

So the Joneses in due course of time were 
moved. After that Mr. Butt was very busy 
selecting a piano, and advising them on wall 
paper and woodwork. 

They were hardly settled in their new home 
when fresh trouble came to them. 

"Have you heard about Everleigh-Jones?" 
said Mr. Butt one day with an anxious face. 

"No," I answered. 

"He's ill — some sort of fever — poor chap — 
been ill three days, and they never told me or 
sent for me — just like their grit — meant to 
fight it out alone. I'm going out there at 



once." 



128 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

From day to day I had reports from Mr, 
Butt of the progress of Jones's illness. 

"I sit with him every day," he said. "Poor 
chap, — he was very bad yesterday for a while, 
— mind wandered — quite delirious — I could 
hear him from the next room — seemed to think 
some one was hunting him — -'Is that damn old 
fool gone,' I heard him say. 

"I went in and soothed him. 'There is no 
one here, my dear boy/ I said, 'no one, only 
Butt.' He turned over and groaned. Mrs. 
Jones begged me to leave him. 'You look quite 
used up,' she said. 'Go out into the open air.' 
'My dear Mrs. Jones,' I said, 'what does it 
matter about me?' " 

Eventually, thanks no doubt to Mr. Butt's 
assiduous care, Everleigh-Jones got well. 

"Yes," said Mr. Butt to me a few weeks 
later, "Jones is all right again now, but his ill- 
ness has been a long hard pull. I haven't had 
an evening to myself since it began. But I'm 
paid, sir, now, more than paid for anything 
I've done, — the gratitude of those two people 
129 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

i — it's unbelievable — you ought to see it. Why 
do you know that dear little woman is so wor- 
ried for fear that my strength has been over- 
taxed that she wants me to take a complete 
rest and go on a long trip somewhere — sug- 
gested first that I should go south. 'My dear 
Mrs. Jones,' I said laughing, 'that's the one 
place I will not go. Heat is the one thing I 
can't stand.' She wasn't nonplussed for a mo- 
ment. 'Then go north,' she said. 'Go up to 
Canada, or better still go to Labrador,' — and 
in a minute that kind little woman was hunting 
up railway maps to see how far north I could 
get by rail. 'After that,' she said, 'you can go 
on snowshoes.' She's found that there's a 
steamer to Ungava every spring and she wants 
me to run up there on one steamer and come 
back on the next." 

"It must be very gratifying," I said. 

"Oh, it is, it is," said Mr. Butt warmly. "It's 
well worth anything I do. It more than repays 
me. I'm alone in the world and my friends 
are all I have. I can't tell you how it goes to 
my heart when I think of all my friends, here 
13P 



Afternoon Adventures at My Club 

in the club and in the town, always glad to see 
me, always protesting against my little kind- 
nesses and yet never quite satisfied about any- 
thing unless they can get my advice and hear 
what I have to say. 

"Take Jones for instance," he continued — 
"do you know, really now as a fact, — the hall 
porter assures me of it, — every time Everleigh- 
Jones enters the club here the first thing he 
does is to sing out, 'Is Mr. Butt in the club?' 
It warms me to think of it." Mr. Butt paused, 
one would have said there were tears in his 
eyes. But if so the kindly beam of his spec- 
tacles shone through them like the sun through 
April rain. He left me and passed into the 
cloak room. 

He had just left the hall when a stranger 
entered, a narrow, meek man with a hunted 
face. He came in with a furtive step and 
looked about him apprehensively. 

"Is Mr. Butt in the club?" he whispered to 
the hall porter. 

"Yes, sir, he's just gone into the cloak room, 
sir, shall I " 

131 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

But the man had turned and made a dive for 
the front door and had vanished. 

"Who is that?" I asked. 

"That's a new member, sir, Mr. Everleigh- 
Jones," said the hall porter. 



132 



RAM SPUDD THE 
NEW WORLD SINGER 



IV- Ram Spudd The New World 
Singer. Is He Divinely 
Inspired? Or Is He Not? 
At Any Rate We Discov- 
ered Him!" 



THE discovery of a new poet is al- 
ways a joy to the cultivated world. 
It is therefore with the greatest 
pleasure that we are able to an- 
nounce that we ourselves, acting quite inde- 
pendently and without aid from any of the 
English reviews of the day, have discovered 
one. In the person of Mr. Ram Spudd, of 
whose work we give specimens below, we feel 
that we reveal to our readers a genius of the 
first order. Unlike one of the most recently 

* Mr. Spudd was discovered by the author for the 
New York Life. He is already recognized as superior 
to Tennyson and second only, as a writer of imagina- 
tion, to the Sultan of Turkey. 

i3S 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

discovered English poets who is a Bengalee, 
and another who is a full-blooded Yak, Mr. 
Spudd is, we believe, a Navajo Indian. We 
believe this from the character of his verse. 
Mr. Spudd himself we have not seen. But 
when he forwarded his poems to our office and 
offered with characteristic modesty to sell us 
his entire works for seventy-five cents, we felt 
in closing with his offer that we were dealing 
not only with a poet, but with one of nature's 
gentlemen. 

Mr. Spudd, we understand, has had no edu- 
cation. Other newly discovered poets have 
had, apparently, some. Mr. Spudd has had, 
evidently, none. We lay stress on this point. 
Without it we claim it is impossible to under- 
stand his work. 

What we particularly like about Ram Spudd, 
and we do not say this because we discovered 
him but because we believe it and must say it, 
is that he belongs not to one school but to all 
of them. As a nature poet we doubt very much 
if he has his equal; as a psychologist, we are 
sure he has not. As a clear lucid thinker he is 
136 



Ram Spudd the New World Singer 

undoubtedly in the first rank; while as a mystic 
he is a long way in front of it. The specimens 
of Mr. Spudd's verse which we append here- 
with were selected, we are happy to assure our 
readers, purely at random from his work. We 
first blindfolded ourselves and then, standing 
with our feet in warm water and having one 
hand tied behind our back, we groped among 
the papers on our desk before us and selected 
for our purpose whatever specimens first came 
to hand. 

As we have said, or did we say it, it is per- 
haps as a nature poet that Ram Spudd excels. 
Others of our modern school have carried the 
observation of natural objects to a high degree 
of very nice precision, but with Mr. Spudd the 
observation of nature becomes an almost scien- 
tific process. Nothing escapes him. The green 
of the grass he detects as in an instant. The 
sky is no sooner blue than he remarks it with 
unerring certainty. Every bird note, every bee 
call, is familiar to his trained ear. Perhaps 
we cannot do better than quote the opening lines 
of a singularly beautiful sample of Ram Spudd's 

137 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

genius which seems to us the last word in na- 
ture poetry. It is called, with characteristic 
daintiness — 

SPRING THAW IN THE 

AHUNTSIC WOODS, NEAR PASPEBIAC, 

PASSAMOQUODDY COUNTY 

(We would like to say that, to our ears at 
least, there is a music in this title like the sound 
of falling water, or of chopped ice. But we 
must not interrupt ourselves. We now begin. 
Listen.) 

The thermometer is standing this morning at thirty- 
three decimal one. 

As a consequence it is freezing in the shade, but it is 
thawing in the sun. 

There is a certain amount of snow on the ground, 
but of course not too much. 

The air is what you would call humid, but not dis- 
agreeable to the touch. 

Where I am standing I find myself practically sur- 
rounded by trees, 

It is simply astonishing the number of the different 
varieties one sees. 

I've grown so wise I can tell each different tree by 
seeing it glisten, 

138 



Ram Spudd the New World Singer 

But if that test fails I simply put my ear to the tree 

and listen, 
And, well, I suppose it is only a silly fancy of mine 

perhaps, 
But do you know I'm getting to tell different trees 

by the sound of their saps. 
After I have noticed all the trees, and named those I 

know in words, 
I stand quite still and look all round to see if there 

are any birds, 
And yesterday, close where I was standing, sitting in 

some brush on the snow, 
I saw what I was practically absolutely certain was an 

early crow. 
I sneaked up ever so close and was nearly beside it, 

when say! 
It turned and took one look at me, and flew away. 

But we should not wish our readers to think 
that Ram Spudd is always and only the con- 
templative poet of the softer aspects of nature. 
Oh, by no means. There are times when waves 
of passion sweep over him in such prodigious 
volume as to roll him to and fro like a pebble 
in the surf. Gusts of emotion blow over him 
with such violence as to hurl him pro and con 
with inconceivable fury. In such moods, if it 
were not for the relief offered by writing verse 
139 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

we really do not know what would happen to 
him. His verse written under the impulse of 
such emotions marks him as one of the great- 
est masters of passion, wild and yet restrained, 
objectionable and yet printable, that have ap- 
peared on this side of the Atlantic. We ap- 
pend herewith a portion, or half portion, of 
his little gem entitled 

YOU 

You! 
With your warm, full, rich, red, ripe lips, 
And your beautifully manicured finger-tips! 

You! 
With your heaving, panting, rapidly expanding and 

contracting chest, 
Lying against my perfectly ordinary shirt-front and 
dinner-jacket vest. 
It is too much 
Your touch 
As such. 
It and 
Your hand, 
Can you not understand? 
Last night an ostrich feather from your fragrant hair 
Unnoticed fell. 
I guard it 

140 



Ram Spudd the New World Singer 

Well. 
Yestere'en 
From your tiara I have slid, 
Unseen, 

A single diamond, 
And I keep it 
Hid. 
Last night you left inside the vestibule upon the sill 
A quarter dollar, 
And I have it 
Still. 

But even those who know Ram Spudd as the 
poet of nature or of passion still only know a 
part of his genius. Some of his highest flights 
rise from an entirely different inspiration, and 
deal with the public affairs of the nation. They 
are in every sense comparable to the best work 
of the poets laureate of England dealing with 
similar themes. As soon as we had seen Ram 
Spudd' s work of this kind, we cried, that is we 
said to our stenographer, "What a pity that in 
this republic we have no laureateship. Here is 
a man who might truly fill it." Of the poem of 
this kind we should wish to quote, if our limits 
of space did not prevent it, Mr. Spudd's ex- 
quisite 

141 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

ODE ON THE REDUCTION OF THE 
UNITED STATES TARIFF 

It is a matter of the very gravest concern to a,t least 

nine-tenths of the business interests in the 

United States, 
Whether an all-round reduction of the present tariff 

either on an ad valorem or a specific basis 
Could be effected without a serious disturbance of the 

general industrial situation of the country. 

But, no, we must not quote any more. No we 
really mustn't. Yet we cannot refrain from 
inserting a reference to the latest of these laure- 
ate poems of Ram Spudd. It appears to us to 
be a matchless specimen of its class, and to 
settle once and for all the vexed question 
(though we ourselves never vexed it) of 
whether true poetry can deal with national oc- 
casions as they arise. It is entitled: 

THE BANKER'S EUTHANASIA: OR, 

THE FEDERAL RESERVE CURRENCY 

ACT OF 1914, 

and, though we do not propose to reproduce it 

here, our distinct feeling is that it will take its 

142 



Ram Spudd the New World Singer 

rank beside Mr. Spudd's Elegy on the Inter- 
state Commerce Act, and his Thoughts on the 
Proposal of a Uniform Pure Food Law. 

But our space does not allow us to present 
Ram Spudd in what is after all his greatest 
aspect, that of a profound psychologist, a ques- 
tioner of the very meaning of life itself. His 
poem Death and Gloom, from which we must 
refrain from quoting at large, contains such 
striking passages as the following: 

Why do I breathe, or do I? 
What am I for, and whither do I go? 
What skills it if I live, and if I die, 
What boots it? 

Any one knowing Ram Spudd as we do will 
realize that these questions, especially the last, 
are practically unanswerable. 



143 



ARISTOCRATIC 
ANECDOTES 



V. — Aristocratic Anecdotes or Lit- 
tle Stories of Great People 

I HAVE been much struck lately by the 
many excellent little anecdotes of cele- 
brated people that have appeared in re- 
cent memoirs and found their way thence 
into the columns of the daily press. There is 
something about them so deliciously pointed, 
their humour is so exquisite, that I think we 
ought to have more of them. To this end I am 
trying to circulate on my own account a few 
anecdotes which seem somehow to have been 
overlooked. 

Here, for example, is an excellent thing 
which comes, if I remember rightly, from the 
vivacious Memoir of Lady Ranelagh de Chit 
Chat. 

ANECDOTE OF THE DUKE OF 
STRATHYTHAN 

Lady Ranelagh writes: "The Duke of Stra- 

thythan (I am writing of course of the seven- 

147 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

teenth Duke, not of his present Grace) was, as 
everybody knows, famous for his hospitality. 
It was not perhaps generally known that the 
Duke was as witty as he was hospitable. I re- 
call a most amusing incident that happened the 
last time but two that I was staying at Strathy- 
than Towers. As we sat down to lunch (we 
were a very small and intimate party, there 
being only forty-three of us) the Duke, who 
was at the head of the table, looked up from 
the roast of beef that he was carving, and run- 
ning his eye about the guests was heard to 
murmur, 'I'm afraid there isn't enough beef to 
go round.' 

"There was nothing to do, of course, but to 
roar with laughter and the incident passed off 
with perfect s avoir faire." 

Here is another story which I think has not 
had all the publicity that it ought to. I found 
it in the book Shot, Shell and Shrapnell or Sixty 
Years as a War Correspondent, recently writ- 
ten by Mr. Maxim Gatling whose exploits are 
familiar to all readers. 



148 



Aristocratic Anecdotes 



ANECDOTE OF LORD KITCHENER 

"I was standing," writes Mr. Maxim, "imme- 
diately between Lord Kitchener and Lord Wolsley 
(with Lord Roberts a little to the rear of us), and 
we were laughing and chatting as we always did when 
the enemy were about to open fire on us. Suddenly 
we found ourselves the object of the most terrific hail 
of bullets. For a few moments the air was black with 
them. As they went past I could not refrain from 
exchanging a quiet smile with Lord Kitchener, and 
another with Lord Wolsley. Indeed I have never, ex- 
cept perhaps on twenty or thirty occasions, found my- 
self exposed to such an awful fusillade. 

"Kitchener, who habitually uses an eye-glass (among 
his friends), watched the bullets go singing by, and 
then, with that inimitable sangfroid which he re- 
serves for his intimates, said, 

" 'I'm afraid if we stay here we may get hit.' 

"We all moved away laughing heartily. 

"To add to the joke, Lord Roberts' aide-de- 
camp was shot in the pit of the stomach as we 
went." 

The next anecdote which I reproduce may be 
already too well known to my readers. The 
career of Baron Snorch filled so large a page 
in the history of European diplomacy that the 
publication of his recent memoirs was awaited 
149 






Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

with profound interest by half the chancelleries 
of Europe. (Even the other half were half 
excited over them.) The tangled skein in 
which the politics of Europe are enveloped was 
perhaps never better illustrated than in this 
fascinating volume. Even at the risk of re- 
peating what is already familiar, I offer the 
following for what it is worth — or even less. 

NEW LIGHT ON THE LIFE OF 
C A FOUR 

"I have always regarded Count Cavour," writes the 
Baron, "as one of the most impenetrable diplomatists 
whom it has been my lot to meet. I distinctly recall 
an incident in connection with the famous Congress 
of Paris of 1856 which rises before my mind as 
vividly as if it were yesterday. I was seated in one 
of the large salons of the Elysee Palace (I often 
used to sit there) playing vingt-et-un together with 
Count Cavour, the Due de Magenta, the Marquese 
di Casa Mombasa, the Conte di Piccolo Pochito and 
others whose names I do not recollect. The stakes had 
been, as usual, very high, and there was a large pile 
of gold on the table. No one of us, however, paid any 
attention to it, so absorbed were we all in the thought 
of the momentous crises that were impending. At in- 
tervals the Emperor Napoleon III passed in and out of 
the room, and paused to say a word or two, with 

150 



Aristocratic Anecdotes 



well-feigned eloignement, to the players, who replied 
with such degagement as they could. 

"While the play was at its height a servant ap- 
peared with a telegram on a silver tray. He handed 
it to Count Cavour. The Count paused in his play, 
opened the telegram, read it and then with the most 
inconceivable nonchalance, put it in his pocket. We 
stared at him in amazement for a moment, and then 
the Due, with the infinite ease of a trained diplomat, 
quietly resumed his play. 

"Two days afterward, meeting Count Cavour at a 
reception of the Empress Eugenie, I was able, un- 
observed, to whisper in his ear, 'WTiat was in the tele- 
gram?' 'Nothing of any consequence,' he answered. 
From that day to this I have never known what it 
contained. My readers," concludes Baron Snorch, 
"may believe this or not as they like, but I give them 
my word that it is true. 

"Probably they will not believe it." 

I cannot resist appending to these anecdotes 
a charming little story from that well-known 
book, Sorrows of a Queen. The writer, Lady 
de Weary, was an English gentlewoman who 
was for many years Mistress of the Robes at 
one of the best known German courts. Her af- 
fection for her royal mistress is evident on 
every page of her memoirs. 
151 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

TENDERNESS OF A QUEEN 

Lady de W. writes : 

"My dear mistress, the late Queen of Saxe-Covia- 
Slitz-in-Mein, was of a most tender and sympathetic 
disposition. The goodness of her heart broke forth 
on all occasions. I well remember how one day, on 
seeing a cabman in the Poodel Platz kicking his horse 
in the stomach, she stopped in her walk and said, 'Oh, 
poor horse! if he goes on kicking it like that he'll 
hurt it/ " 

I may say in conclusion that I think if people 
would only take a little more pains to resusci- 
tate anecdotes of this sort, there might be a 
lot more of them found. 






152 



EDUCATION MADE 
AGREEABLE 



VI— Education Made Agreeable 
or the Diversions of a Pro- 
fessor 

A FEW days ago during a pause in one 
of my college lectures (my class be- 
ing asleep) I sat reading Draper's 
Intellectual Development of Europe. 
Quite suddenly I came upon the following sen- 
tence : 

"Eratosthenes cast everything he wished to 
teach into poetry. By this means he made it 
attractive, and he was able to spread his sys- 
tem all over Asia Minor." 

This came to me with a shock of an intel- 
lectual discovery. I saw at once how I could 
spread my system, or parts of it, all over the 
United States and Canada. To make educa- 
tion attractive! There it is! To call in the 
help of poetry, of music, of grand opera, if 
155 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

need be, to aid in the teaching of the dry sub- 
jects of the college class room. 

I set to work at once on the project and al- 
ready I have enough results to revolutionize 
education. 

In the first place I have compounded a blend 
of modern poetry and mathematics, which re- 
tains all the romance of the latter and loses 
none of the dry accuracy of the former. Here 
is an example: 

The poem of 

LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER 

expressed as 

A PROBLEM IN TRIGONOMETRY 

Introduction, A party of three persons, a Scotch 
nobleman, a young lady and an elderly boatman stand 
on the banks of a river (R), which, for private rea- 
sons, they desire to cross. Their only means of trans- 
port is a boat, of which the boatman, if squared, is 
able to row at a rate proportional to the square of 
the distance. The boat, however, has a leak (S), 
through which a quantity of water passes sufficient to 
sink it after traversing an indeterminate distance (D). 
Given the square of the boatman and the mean situa- 
tion of all concerned, to find whether the boat will 
pass the river safely or sink. 

156 



Education Made Agreeable 

A chieftain to the Highlands bound 
Cried "Boatman do not tarry! 

And I'll give you a silver pound 
To row me o'er the ferry." 

Before them raged the angry tide 

X 2 -|-Y from side to side. 

Outspake the hardy Highland wight, 

"I'll go, my chief, I'm ready; 
It is not for your silver bright, 

But for your winsome lady." 
And yet he seemed to manifest 

A certain hesitation ; 
His head was sunk upon his breast 

In puzzled calculation. 

"Suppose the river X + Y 
And call the distance Q 
Then dare we thus the gods defy 
I think we dare, don't you? 

Our floating power expressed in words 

IsX + 47" 



"Oh, haste thee, haste," the lady cries, 
"Though tempests round us gather 
I'll face the raging of the skies 
But please cut out the Algebra." 

157 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

The boat has left the stormy shore ( S ) 
A stormy C before her 

v_ - Vw \_ V_ A 

The tempest gathers o'er her 

The thunder rolls, the lightning smites 'em 
.Aid the rain falls ad inrinitum. 

In vain the aged boatman strains, 
H s b&i t iug sides reveal h 
The angry water gains apace 
Both of his sides and half his base 

Till, as he sits, he seems to lose 

The square of his hypotenuse. 

The boat advanced to X — 2. 

Lord Ullin reached the fixed point Q, — 

Then the boat sank from human eye, 
OY, OY -, OGY. 

But this is only a sample of what can be 
done. I have realised that all our technical 
books are written and presented in too dry a 
fashion. They don't make the most of them- 
selves. Very often the situation implied is in- 
tensely sensational, and if set out after the 
fashion of an up-to-date newspaper, would be 
wonderfully effective. 

Here, for example, you have Euclid wrii 



Education Made Agreeable 

in a perfectly prosaic way all in small type such 
an item as the following: 

"A perpendicular is let fall on a line BC so 
as to bisect it at the point C etc., etc.." just as 
if it were the most ordinary occurrence in the 
world. Ever\* newspaper man will see at once 
that it ought to be set up thus : 

AWFUL CATASTROPHE 

PERPEXDICULAR TALES HEADLOXG 

OX A GIVEN POIXT 

The Line at C said to be completely bisected 

President of the Line makes Statement 

etc., el:., etc. 

But I am not contenting myself with merely 
describing my system. I am putting it to the 
test. I am preparing a new and very special 
edition of my friend Professor Daniel Mur- 
ray's work on the Calculus. This is a book 
little known to the general public I suppose 
one may say without exaggeration that outside 
of the class room it is hardly read at all. 

Yet I venture to say that when my new edi- 
tion is out it will be found on the tables of 
159 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

every cultivated home, and will be among the 
best sellers of the year. All that is needed is 
to give to this really monumental book the 
same chance that is given to every other work 
of fiction in the modern market. 

First of all I wrap it in what is called techni- 
cally a jacket. This is of white enamelled 
paper, and on it is a picture of a girl, a very 
pretty girl, in a summer dress and sunbonnet 
sitting swinging on a bough of a cherry tree. 
Across the cover in big black letters are the 
words: 

THE CALCULUS 

and beneath them the legend "the most daring 
book of the day." This, you will observe, is 
perfectly true. The reviewers of the mathe- 
matical journals when this book first came out 
agreed that "Professor Murray's views on the 
Calculus were the most daring yet published." 
They said, too, that they hoped that the pro- 
fessor's unsound theories of infinitesimal recti- 
tude would not remain unchallenged. Yet the 
public somehow missed it all, and one of the 
1 60 



Education Made Agreeable 

most profitable scandals in the publishing trade 
was missed for the lack of a little business en- 
terprise. 

My new edition will give this book its first 
real chance. 

I admit that the inside has to be altered, — 
but not very much. The real basis of interest 
is there. The theories in the book are just as 
interesting as those raised in the modern novel. 
All that is needed is to adopt the device, fa- 
miliar in novels, of clothing the theories in 
personal form and putting the propositions ad- 
vanced into the mouths of the characters, in- 
stead of leaving them as unsupported state- 
ments of the author. Take for example Dr. 
Murray's beginning. It is very good, — any 
one will admit it, — fascinatingly clever, but it 
lacks heart. 

It runs : 

If two magnitudes, one of which is determined by 
a straight line and the other by a parabola approach 
one another, the rectangle included by the revolution 
of each will be equal to the sum of a series of inde- 
terminate rectangles. 

161 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

Now this is, — quite frankly, — dull. The 
situation is there ; the idea is good, and, whether 
one agrees or not, is at least as brilliantly origi- 
nal as even the best of our recent novels. But 
I find it necessary to alter the presentation of 
the plot a little bit. As I re-edit it the opening 
of the Calculus runs thus: 

On a bright morning in June along a path gay with 
the opening efflorescence of the hibiscus and entangled 
here and there with the wild blossoms of the convolvu- 
lus, — two magnitudes might have been seen approaching 
one another. The one magnitude who held a tennis- 
racket in his hand, carried himself with a beautiful 
erectness and moved with a firmness such as would 
have led Professor Murray to exclaim in despair — 
Let it be granted that A. B. (for such was our hero's 
name) is a straight line. The other magnitude, which 
drew near with a step at once elusive and fascinating, 
revealed as she walked a figure so exquisite in its every 
curve as to call from her geometrical acquaintances the 
ecstatic exclamation, "Let it be granted that M is a 
parabola." 

The beautiful magnitude of whom we have last 
spoken, bore on her arm as she walked, a tiny dog 
over which her fair head was bent in endearing ca- 
resses; indeed such was her attention to the dog Vi 
(his full name was Velocity but he was called Vi for 
short) that her wayward footsteps carried her not in a 

162 



Education Made Agreeable 

straight line but in a direction so constantly changing 
as to lead that acute observer, Professor Murray, to 
the conclusion that her path could only be described 
by the amount of attraction ascribable to Vi. 

Guided thus along their respective paths, the two 
magnitudes presently met with such suddenness that 
they almost intersected. 

"I beg your pardon," said the first magnitude very 
rigidly. 

"You ought to indeed," said the second rather sulk- 
ily, "you've knocked Vi right out of my arms." 

She looked round despairingly for the little dog 
which seemed to have disappeared in the long grass. 

"Won't you please pick him up ?" she pleaded. 

"Not exactly in my line, you know," answered the 
other magnitude, "but I tell you what I'll do, if 
you'll stand still, perfectly still where you are, and let 
me take hold of your hand, I'll describe a circle!" 

"Oh, aren't you clever!" cried the girl, clapping 
her hands. "What a lovely idea! You describe a 
circle all around me, and then we'll look at every 
weeny bit of it and we'll be sure to find Vi " 

She reached out her hand to the other magnitude 
who clasped it with an assumed intensity sufficient to 
retain it. 

At this moment a third magnitude broke on the 
scene: — a huge oblong, angular figure, very difficult 
to describe, came revolving towards them. 

"M," it shouted, "Emily, what are you doing?" 

M 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"My goodness." said the second magnitude in 
alarm." "it% MAMA." 

I may say that the second instalment of Dr. 
Murray's fascinating romance will appear in 
the next number of the Illuminated Bookworm, 
the great adult-juvenile vehicle of the newer 
thought in which these theories of education are 
expounded further. 



i6 4 



AN EVERY-DAY 
EXPERIENCE 



VII.— An Every- Day Experience 

HE came across to me in the semi- 
silence room of the club. 
"I had a rather queer hand at 
bridge last night," he said. 
"Had you?" I answered, and picked up a 
newspaper. 

"Yes. It would have interested you, I 
think," he went on. 

"Would it?" I said, and moved to another 
chair. 

"It was like this," he continued, following 

me: "I held the king of hearts " 

"Half a minute," I said; "I want to go and 
see what time it is." I went out and looked 
at the clock in the hall. I came back. 

"And the queen and the ten " he was 

saying. 

"Excuse me just a second; I want to ring for 
a messenger." 

167 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

I did so. The waiter came and went. 

"And the nine and two small ones," he went 
on. 

"Two small what?" I asked. 

"Two small hearts," he said. "I don't re- 
member which. Anyway, I remember very 
well indeed that I had the king and the queen 
and the jack, the nine, and two little ones." 

"Half a second," I said, "I want to mail a 
letter." 

When I came back to him, he was still mur- 
muring : 

"My partner held the ace of clubs and the 
queen. The jack was out, but I didn't know 
where the king was " 

"You didn't?" I said in contempt. 

"No," he repeated in surprise, and went on 
murmuring : 

"Diamonds had gone round once, and spades 
twice, and so I suspected that my partner was 
leading from weakness " 

"I can well believe it," I said — "sheer weak- 



ness." 



"Well," he said, "on the sixth round the 
168 



An Every -Day Experience 

lead came to me. Now, what should I have 
done? Finessed for the ace, or led straight 

into my opponent " 

"You want my advice," I said, "and you 
shall have it, openly and fairly. In such a case 
as you describe, where a man has led out at 
me repeatedly and with provocation, as I gather 
from what you say, though I myself do not play 
bridge, I should lead my whole hand at him. 
I repeat, I do not play bridge. But in the cir- 
cumstances, I should think it the only thing to 
do." 



169 



TRUTHFUL ORATORY 



VI I I. —Truthful Oratory, or What 
Our Speakers Ought to Say 



TRUTHFUL SPEECH GIVING THE 
REAL THOUGHTS OF A DISTIN- 
GUISHED GUEST AT THE FIF- 
TIETH ANNIVERSARY BAN- 
QUET OF A SOCIETY 

MR. Chairman and Gentlemen: 
If there is one thing I abomi- 
nate more than another, it is 
turning out on a cold night like 
this to eat a huge dinner of twelve courses and 
know that I have to make a speech on top of it. 
Gentlemen, I just feel stuffed. That's the plain 
truth of it. By the time we had finished that 
fish, I could have gone home satisfied. Hon- 
estly I could. That's as much as I usually eat. 
And by the time I had finished the rest of the 
173 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

food, I felt simply waterlogged, and I do still. 
More than that. The knowledge that I had to 
make a speech congratulating this society of 
yours on its fiftieth anniversary haunted and 
racked me all through the meal. I am not, in 
plain truth, the ready and brilliant speaker you 
take me for. That is a pure myth. If you 
could see the desperate home scene that goes 
on in my family when I am working up a 
speech, your minds would be at rest on that 
point. 

I'll go further and be very frank with you. 
How this society has lived for fifty years, I 
don't know. If all your dinners are like this, 
Heaven help you. I've only the vaguest idea 
of what this society is, anyway, and what it 
does. I tried to get a constitution this after- 
noon but failed. I am sure from some of the 
faces that I recognise around this table that 
there must be good business reasons of some 
sort for belonging to this society. There's 
money in it, — mark my words, — for some of 
you or you wouldn't be here. Of course I 
quite understand that the President and the 
174 



Truthful Oratory 



officials seated here beside me come merely for 
the self-importance of it. That, gentlemen, is 
about their size. I realized that from their 
talk during the banquet. I don't want to speak 
bitterly, but the truth is they are small men 
and it flatters them to sit here with two or 
three blue ribbons pinned on their coats. But 
as for me, I'm done with it. It will be fifty 
years, please heaven, before this event comes 
round again. I hope, I earnestly hope, that I 
shall be safely under the ground. 

II 

THE SPEECH THAT OUGHT TO BE 
MADE BY A STATE GOVERNOR 
AFTER VISITING THE FALL EX- 
POSITION OF AN AGRICUL- 
TURAL SOCIETY 

Well, gentlemen, this Annual Fall Fair of 
the Skedink County Agricultural Association 
has come round again. I don't mind telling 
you straight out that of all the disagreeable 
jobs that fall to me as Governor of this State, 
175 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

my visit to your Fall Fair is about the tough- 
est 

I want to tell you, gentlemen, right here 
and now, that I don't know anything about ag- 
riculture and I don't want to. My parents 
were rich enough to bring me up in the city 
in a rational way. I didn't have to do chores 
in order to go to the high school as some of 
those present have boasted that they did. My 
only wonder is that they ever got there at all. 
They show no traces of it. 

This afternoon, gentlemen, you took me all 
round your live-stock exhibit. I walked past, 
and through, nearly a quarter of a mile of hogs. 
What was it that they were called — Tam- 
worths — Berkshires? I don't remember. But 
all I can say, gentlemen, is, — phew ! Just that. 
Some of you will understand readily enough. 
That word sums up my whole idea of your 
agricultural show and I'm done with it. 

No, let me correct myself. There was jui 

one feature of your agricultural exposition thai 

met my warm approval. You were goo< 

enough to take me through the section of youi 

176 



Truthful Oratory 



exposition called your Midway Pleasance. Let 
me tell you, sirs, that there was more real merit 
in that than all the rest of the show put to- 
gether. You apologized, if I remember 
rightly, for taking me into the large tent of the 
Syrian Dancing Girls. Oh, believe me, gentle- 
men, you needn't have. Syria is a country 
which commands my profoundest admiration. 
Some day I mean to spend a vacation there. 
And, believe me, gentlemen, when I do go, — 
and I say this with all the emphasis of which 
I am capable, — I should not wish to be accom- 
panied by such a set of flatheads as the officials 
of your Agricultural Society. 

And now, gentlemen, as I have just received 
a fake telegram, by arrangement, calling me 
back to the capital of the State, I must leave 
this banquet at once. One word in conclusion : 
if I had known as fully as I do now how it 
feels to drink half a bucket of sweet cider, I 
should certainly never have come. 



177 






Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 



III 

TRUTHFUL SPEECH OF A DISTRICT 
POLITICIAN TO A LADIES' SUF- 
FRAGE SOCIETY 

Ladies: My own earnest, heartfelt con- 
viction is that you are a pack of cats. I use 
the word "cats" advisedly, and I mean every 
letter of it. I want to go on record before 
this gathering as being strongly and unalter- 
ably opposed to Woman Suffrage until you get 
it. After that I favour it. My reasons for 
opposing the suffrage are of a kind that you 
couldn't understand. But all men, — except 
the few that I see at this meeting, — understand 
them by instinct. 

As you may, however, succeed as a result 
of the fuss that you are making, — in getting 
votes, I have thought it best to come. Also, — 
I am free to confess, — I wanted to see what 
you looked like. 

On this last head I am disappointed. Per- 
sonally I like women a good deal fatter than 

i 7 8 



Truthful Oratory 



most of you are, and better looking. As I 
look around this gathering I see one or two of 
you that are not so bad, but on the whole not 
many. But my own strong personal predilec- 
tion is and remains in favour of a woman who 
can cook, mend clothes, talk when I want her 
to, and give me the kind of admiration to 
which I am accustomed. 

Let me, however, say in conclusion that I am 
altogether in sympathy with your movement to 
this extent. If you ever do get votes, — and 
the indications are that you will (blast you), — 
I want your votes, and I want all of them. 



179 



OUR LITER AR Y BUREA U 



IX. — Our Literary Bureau* 

NOVELS READ TO ORDER 

FIRST AID FOR THE 

BUSY MILLIONAIRE 

No BRAINS NEEDED 
No TASTE REQUIRED 

Nothing but money 
Send it to us 

WE have lately been struck, — of 
course not dangerously, — by a 
new idea. A recent number of a 
well-known magazine contains an 
account of an American multimillionaire who, 
on account of the pressure of his brain power 
and the rush of his business, found it impossi- 
ble to read the fiction of the day for himself. 
He therefore caused his secretaries to look 
* This literary bureau was started by the author in 
the New York Century. It leaped into such imme- 
diate prominence that it had to be closed at once. 

183 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

through any new and likely novel and make a 
rapid report on its contents, indicating for his 
personal perusal the specially interesting parts. 

Realizing the possibilities coiled up in this 
plan, we have opened a special agency or bu- 
reau for doing work of this sort. Any over- 
busy multimillionaire, or superman, who be- 
comes our client may send us novels, essays, 
or books of any kind, and will receive a report 
explaining the plot and pointing out such parts 
as he may with propriety read. If he can once 
find time to send us a postcard, or a postal 
cablegram, night or day, we undertake to as- 
sume all the further effort of reading. Our 
terms for ordinary fiction are one dollar per 
chapter; for works of travel, 10 cents per mile; 
and for political or other essays, two cents per 
page, or ten dollars per idea, and for theo- 
logical and controversial work, seven dollars 
and fifty cents per cubic yard extracted. Our 
clients are assured of prompt and immediate 
attention. 

Through the kindness of the Editor of the 
Century we are enabled to insert here a sample 
184 



Our Literary Bureau 



of our work. It was done to the order of a 
gentleman of means engaged in silver mining 
in Colorado, who wrote us that he was anxious 
to get "a holt" on modern fiction, but that he 
had no time actually to read it. On our assur- 
ing him that this was now unnecessary, he 
caused to be sent to us the monthly parts of a 
serial story, on which we duly reported as fol- 
lows: 

JANUARY INSTALMENT 

Theodolite Gulch, 

The Dip, Canon County, 
Colorado. 
Dear Sir: 

We beg to inform you that the scene of the opening 
chapter of the Fortunes of Barbara Plynlimmon is laid 
in Wales. The scene is laid, however, very carelessly 
and hurriedly and we expect that it will shortly be 
removed. We cannot, therefore, recommend it to your 
perusal. As there is a very fine passage describing 
the Cambrian Hills by moonlight, we enclose herewith 
a condensed table showing the mean altitude of the 
moon for the month of December in the latitude of 
Wales. The character of Miss Plynlimmon we find to 
be developed in conversation with her grandmother, 
which we think you had better not read. Nor are we 

185 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

prepared to endorse your reading the speeches of the 
Welsh peasantry which we find in this chapter, but 
we forward herewith in place of them a short glossary 
of Welsh synonyms which may aid you in this con- 
nection. 

FEBRUARY INSTALMENT; 
Dear Sir: 

We regret to state that we find nothing in the 
second chapter of the Fortunes of Barbara Plvnlim- 
mon which need be reported to you at length. We 
think it well, however, to apprise you of the arrival of 
a young Oxford student in the neighbourhood of Miss 
Plynlimmon's cottage, who is apparently a young man 
of means and refinement. We enclose a list of the 
principal Oxford Colleges. 

We may state that from the conversation and man- 
ner of this young gentleman there is no ground for 
any apprehension on your part. But if need arises 
we will report by cable to you instantly. 

The young gentleman in question meets Miss Plyn- 
limmon at sunrise on the slopes of Snowdon. As the 
description of the meeting is very fine we send you a 
recent photograph of the sun. 

MARCH INSTALMENT 

Dear Sir: 

Our surmise was right. The scene of the story 
that we are digesting for you is changed. Miss Plyn- 

186 






Our Literary Bureau 



lfmmon has gone to London. You will be gratified to 
learn that she has fallen heir to a fortune of ,£100,000, 
which we are happy to compute for you at $486,666 
and 66 cents less exchange. On Miss Plynlimmon's 
arrival at Charing Cross Station, she is overwhelmed 
with that strange feeling of isolation felt in the surg- 
ing crowds of a modern city. We therefore enclose 
a timetable showing the arrival and departure of all 
trains at Charing Cross. 

APRIL INSTALMENT 

Dear Sir: 

We beg to bring to your notice the fact that Miss 
Barbara Plynlimmon has by an arrangement made 
through her trustees become the inmate, on a pe- 
cuniary footing, in the household of a family of title. 
We are happy to inform you that her first appear- 
ance at dinner in evening dress was most gratifying: 
we can safely recommend you to read in this connec- 
tion lines 4 and 5 and the first half of line 6 on page 
100 of the book as enclosed. We regret to say that 
the Marquis of Slush and his eldest son Viscount Fitz- 
buse (courtesy title) are both addicted to drink. They 
have been drinking throughout the chapter. We are 
pleased to state that apparently the second son, Lord 
Radnor of Slush, who is away from home is not so 
addicted. We send you under separate cover a bottle 
of Radnor water. 



187 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

MAY INSTALMENT 

Dear Sir: 

We regret to state that the affairs of Miss Barbara 
Plynlimmon are in a very unsatisfactory position. We 
enclose three pages of the novel with the urgent re- 
quest that you will read them at once. The old 
Marquis of Slush has made approaches towards Miss 
Plynlimmon of such a scandalous nature that we think 
it best to ask you to read them in full. You will 
note also that young Viscount Slush who is tipsy 
through whole of pages 121-125, 128-133, and part of 
page 140, has designs upon her fortune. We are 
sorry to see also that the Marchioness of Buse under 
the guise of friendship has insured Miss Plynlimmon's 
life and means to do away with her. The sister of the 
Marchioness, the Lady Dowager, also wishes to do 
away with her. The second housemaid who is tempted 
by her jewellery is also planning to do away with her. 
We feel that if this goes on she will be done away 
with. 

JUNE INSTALMENT 

Dear Sir: 

We beg to advise you that Viscount Fitz-buse, in- 
flamed by the beauty and innocence of Miss Plynlim- 
mon, has gone so far as to lay his finger on her (read 
page 170, lines 6-7). She resisted his approaches. At 
the height of the struggle a young man, attired in the 
188 






Our Literary Bureau 



costume of a Welsh tourist, but wearing the stamp 
of an Oxford student, and yet carrying himself with 
the unmistakable hauteur (we knew it at once) of 
an aristocrat, burst, or bust, into the room. With 
one blow he felled Fitz-buse to the floor; with an- 
other he clasped the girl to his heart. 

"Barbara!" he exclaimed. 

"Radnor," she murmured. 

You will be pleased to learn that this is the second 
son of the Marquis, Viscount Radnor, just returned 
from a reading tour in Wales. 

P. S. We do not know what he read, so we en- 
close a file of Welsh newspapers to date. 

JULY INSTALMENT 

We regret to inform you that the Marquis of 
Slush has disinherited his son. We grieve to state 
that Viscount Radnor has sworn that he will never 
ask for Miss Plynlimmon's hand till he has a for- 
tune equal to her own. Meantime, we are sorry to 
say, he proposes to work. 

AUGUST INSTALMENT 

The Viscount is seeking employment. 

SEPTEMBER INSTALMENT 

The Viscount is looking for work. 



189 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

OCTOBER INSTALMENT 

The Viscount is hunting for a job. 

NOVEMBER INSTALMENT 

We are most happy to inform you that Miss Plyn- 
limmon has saved the situation. Determined to be 
worthy of the generous love of Viscount Radnor, she 
has arranged to convey her entire fortune to the old 
family lawyer who acts as her trustee. She will thus 
become as poor as the Viscount and they can marry. 
The scene with the old lawyer who breaks into tears 
on receiving the fortune, swearing to hold and cherish 
it as his own is very touching. Meantime, as the 
Viscount is hunting for a job, we enclose a list of 
advertisements under the heading Help Wanted — 
Males. 

DECEMBER INSTALMENT 

You will be very gratified to learn that the for- 
tunes of Miss Barbara Plynlimmon have come to a 
most pleasing termination. Her marriage with the 
Viscount Radnor was celebrated very quietly on page 
231. (We enclose a list of the principal churches in 
London.) No one was present except the old family 
lawyer, who was moved to tears at the sight of the 
bright, trusting bride, and the clergyman who wept 
at the sight of the cheque given him by the Viscount. 
After the ceremony the old trustee took Lord and 

190 



Our Literary Bureau 



Lady Radnor to a small wedding breakfast at an hotel 
(we enclose a list). During the breakfast a sudden 
faintness (for which we had been watching for ten 
pages) overcame him. He sank back in his chair, 
gasping. Lord and Lady Radnor rushed to him and 
sought in vain to tighten his necktie. He expired 
under their care, having just time to indicate in his 
pocket a will leaving them his entire wealth. 

This had hardly happened when a messenger 
brought news to the Viscount that his brother, Lord 
Fitz-buse had been killed in the hunting field, and 
that he (meaning him, himself) had now succeeded 
to the title. Lord and Lady Fitz-buse had hardly 
time to reach the town house of the family when they 
learned that owing to the sudden death of the old 
Marquis (also, we believe, in the hunting field), they 
had become the Marquis and the Marchioness of 
Slush. 

The Marquis and the Marchioness of Slush are still 
living in their ancestral home in London. Their lives 
are an example to all their tenantry in Piccadilly, the 
Strand and elsewhere. 

CONCLUDING NOTE 

Dear Mr. Gulch : 

We beg to acknowledge with many thanks your 
cheque for one thousand dollars. 

We regret to learn that you have not been able to 
find time to read our digest of the serial story placed 

I 9 I 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

with us at your order. But we note with pleasure 
that you propose to have the "essential points" of our 
digest "boiled down" by one of the business experts of 
your office, 

Awaiting your commands, 

We remain, etc., etc 



192 



SPEEDING UP BUSINESS 



X.— Speeding Up Business 

WE were sitting at our editorial desk 
in our inner room, quietly writing 
up our week's poetry, when a 
stranger looked in upon us. 
He came in with a burst, — like the entry of 
the hero of western drama coming in out of a 
snowstorm. His manner was all excitement. 
"Sit down," we said, in our grave, courteous 
way. "Sit down!" he exclaimed, "certainly 
not! Are you aware of the amount of time 
and energy that are being wasted in American 
business by the practice of perpetually sitting 
down and standing up again? Do you realize 
that every time you sit down and stand up 
you make a dead lift of" — he looked at us, — 
"two hundred and fifty pounds? Did you ever 
reflect that every time you sit down you have 
to get up again?" "Never," we said quietly, 
"we never thought of it." "You didn't!" he 

195 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

sneered. "No, you'd rather go on lifting 250 
pounds through two feet, — an average of 500 
foot-pounds, practically 62 kilowatts of wasted 
power. . Do you know that by merely hitching 
a pulley to the back of your neck you could 
generate enough power to light your whole of- 
fice?" 

We hung our heads. Simple as the thing 
was, we had never thought of it. "Very good," 
said the Stranger. "Now, all American busi- 
ness men are like you. They don't think, — do 
you understand me? They don't think." 

We realized the truth of it at once. We 
had never thought. Perhaps we didn't even 
know how. 

"Now, I tell you," continued our visitor, 
speaking rapidly and with a light of wild en- 
thusiasm in his face, "I'm out for a new cam- 
paign, — efficiency in business — speeding things 
up — better organization." 

"But surely," we said, musingly, "we have 

seen something about this lately in the papers?" 

"Seen it, sir," he exclaimed, "I should say so. 

It's everywhere. It's a new movement. It's 

196 



Speeding Up Business 



in the air. Has it never struck you how a thing 
like this can be seen in the air?" 

Here again we were at fault. In all our 
lives we had never seen anything in the air. We 
had never even looked there. "Now," con- 
tinued the Stranger, "I want your paper to 
help. I want you to join in. I want you to 
give publicity." 

"Assuredly," we said, with our old-fashioned 
politeness. "Anything which concerns the wel- 
fare, the progress, if one may so phrase it " 

"Stop," said the visitor. "You talk too much. 
You're prosy. Don't talk. Listen to me. Try 
and fix your mind on what I am about to say." 

We fixed it. The Stranger's manner be- 
came somewhat calmer. "I am heading," he 
said, "the new American efficiency movement. 
I have sent our circulars to fifty thousand rep- 
resentative firms, explaining my methods. I 
am receiving ten thousand answers a day" — 
here he dragged a bundle of letters out of his 
pocket — "from Maine, from New Hampshire, 

from Vermont," "Massachusetts, Rhode 

Island, Connecticut," we murmured. 
197 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"Exactly," he said; "from every State in 
the Union — from the Philippines, from Porto 
Rico, and last week I had one from Canada." 
"Marvellous," we said; "and may one ask 
what your new methods are?" 

"You may," he answered. "It's a proper 
question. It's a typical business question, fair, 
plain, clean, and even admitting of an answer. 
The great art of answering questions," he con- 
tinued, "is to answer at once without loss of 
time, friction or delay in moving from place 
to place. I'll answer it." 

"Do," we said. 

"I will," said the Stranger. "My method is 
first: to stimulate business to the highest point 
by infusing into it everywhere the spirit of 
generous rivalry, of wholesome competition; 
by inviting each and every worker to outdo each 
and every other." 

"And can they do it?" we asked, puzzled 
and yet fascinated. "Can they all do it?" 

"They do, and they can," said the Stranger. 
"The proof of it is that they are doing it. Lis- 
ten. Here is an answer to my circular No. 6, 
198 



Speeding Up Business 



Efficiency and Recompense, that came in this 
morning. It is from a steel firm. Listen." 
The Stranger picked out a letter and read it. 

Dear Sir: 

Our firm is a Steel Corporation. We roll rails\ 
As soon as we read your circular on the Stimulus of 
Competition we saw that there were big things in it„- 
At once we sent one of our chief managers to the rolling: 
mill. He carried a paper bag in his hand. "Now 
boys," he said, "every man who rolls a rail gets a 
gum-drop." The effect was magical. The good fellows 
felt a new stimulus. They now roll out rails like dough. 
Work is a joy to them. Every Saturday night the man 
who has rolled most gets a blue ribbon; the man who 
has rolled the next most, a green ribbon; the next 
most a yellow ribbon, and so on through the spectro- 
scope. The man who rolls least gets only a red rib- 
bon. It is a real pleasure to see the brave fellows 
clamouring for their ribbons. Our output, after de- 
fraying the entire cost of the ribbons and the gum- 
drops, has increased forty per cent. We intend to carry 
the scheme further by allowing all the men who get a 
hundred blue ribbons first, to exchange them for the 
Grand Efficiency Prize of the firm, — a pink ribbon. 
This the winner will be entitled to wear whenever and 
wherever he sees fit to wear it. 

The stranger paused for breath. 
199 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"Marvellous," we said. "There is no doubt 
the stimulus of keen competition " 

"Shut up," he said impatiently. "Let me 
explain it further. Competition is only part of 
it. An item just as big that makes for efficiency 
is to take account of the little things. It's the 
little things that are never thought of." 

Here was another wonder! We realized 
that we had never thought of them. "Take an 
example," the Stranger continued. "I went 
into a hotel the other day. What did I see? 
Bell-boys being summoned upstairs every min- 
ute, and flying up in the elevators. Yes, — and 
every time they went up they had to come down 
again. I went up to the manager. I said, 'I 
can understand that when your guests ring for 
the bell-boys they have to go up. But why 
should they come down? Why not have them 
go up and never come down?' He caught the 
idea at once. That hotel is transformed. I 
have a letter from the manager stating that 
they find it fifty per cent, cheaper to hire new 
bell-boys instead of waiting for the old ones to 
come down." 

200 



Speeding Up Business 



"These results," we said, "are certainly mar- 
vellous. "You are most assuredly to be con- 
gratulated on " 

"You talk too much," said the Stranger. 
"Don't do it. Learn to listen. If a young man 
comes to me for advice in business, — and they 
do in hundreds, lots of them, — almost in tears 
over their inefficiency, — I'd say, 'Young man, 
never talk, listen; answer, but don't speak.' 
But even all this is only part of the method. 
Another side of it is technique." 

"Technique?" we said, pleased but puz- 
zled. 

"Yes, the proper use of machine devices. 
Take the building trade. I've revolutionized 
it. Till now all the bricks even for a high 
building were carried up to the mason in hods. 
Madness! Think of the waste of it. By my 
method instead of carrying the bricks to the 
mason we take the mason to the brick, — lower 
him on a wire rope, give him a brick, and up 
he goes again. As soon as he wants another 
brick he calls down, T want a brick,' and down 
he comes like lightning." 
201 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 
"This," we said, "is little short of " 



"Cut it out. Even that is not all. Another 
thing bigger than any is organization. Half 
the business in this country is not organized. 
As soon as I sent out my circular, No. 4, 
HAVE YOU ORGANIZED YOUR BUSI- 
NESS! I got answers in thousands! Heart- 
broken, many of them. They had never 
thought of it! Here, for example, is a letter 
written by a plain man, a gardener, just an 
ordinary man, a plain man " 

"Yes," we said, "quite so." 

"Well, here is what he writes: 

Dear Sir: 

As soon as I got your circular I read it all through 
from end to end, and I saw that all my failure in 
the past had come from my not being organized. I 
sat and thought a long while and I decided that I 
would organize myself. I went right in to the house 
and I said to my wife, "Jane, I'm going to organize 
myself." She said, "Oh, John!"— and not another 
word, but you should have seen the look on her face. 
So the next morning I got up early and began to or- 
ganize myself. It was hard at first but I stuck to it. 
There were times when I felt as if I couldn't do it. 
It seemed too hard. But bit by bit I did it and now, 
202 



Speeding Up Business 



thank God, I am organized. I wish all men like me 
could know the pleasure I feel in being organized. 

"Touching, isn't it?" said the Stranger. 
"But I get lots of letters like that. Here's an- 
other, also from a man, a plain man, working 
on his own farm. Hear what he says: 

Dear Sir: 

As soon as I saw your circular on HOW TO 
SPEED UP THE EMPLOYEE I felt that it was 
a big thing. I don't have any hired help here to 
work with me, but only father. He cuts the wood 
and does odd chores about the place. So I realized 
that the best I could do was to try to speed up 
father. I started in to speed him up last Tuesday, and 
I wish you could see him. Before this he couldn't 
split a cord of wood without cutting a slice off his 
boots. Now he does it in half the time. 

"But there," the Stranger said, getting im- 
patient even with his own reading, "I needn't 
read it all. It is the same thing all along the 
line. I've got the Method introduced into the 
Department Stores. Before this every cus- 
tomer who came in wasted time trying to find 
the counters. Now we install a patent spring- 
203 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

board, with a mechanism like a catapault. As 
soon as a customer comes in an attendant puts 
him on the board, blindfolds him, and says, 
Where do you want to go?' 'Glove counter.' 
'Oh, all right.' He's fired at it through the air. 
No time lost. Same with the railways. 
They're installing the Method, too. Every en- 
gineer who breaks the record from New York 
to Buffalo gets a glass of milk. When he gets 
a hundred glasses he can exchange them for a 
glass of beer. So with the doctors. On the 
new method, instead of giving a patient one 
pill a day for fourteen days they give him four- 
teen pills in one day. Doctors, lawyers, every- 
body, — in time, sir," said the Stranger, in tones 
of rising excitement, "you'll see even the plumb- 
ers " 

But just at this moment the door opened. 
A sturdy-looking man in blue entered. The 
Stranger's voice was hushed at once. The ex- 
citement died out of his face. His manner all 
of a sudden was meekness itself. 

"I was just coming," he said. 

"That's right, sir," said the man; "better 
204 



Speeding Up Business 



come along and not take up the gentleman's 
rime." 

"Good-bye, then," said the Stranger, with 
meek affability, and he went out. 

The man in blue lingered behind for a mo- 
ment. 

"A sad case, sir," he said, and he tapped his 
forehead. 

"You mean " I asked. 

"Exactly. Cracked, sir. Quite cracked ; but 
harmless. I'm engaged to look after him, but 
he gave me the slip downstairs." 

"He is under delusions?" we inquired. 

"Yes, sir. He's got it into his head that 
business in this country has all gone to pieces, 
— thinks it must be reorganized. He writes 
letters about it all day and sends them to the 
papers with imaginary names. You may have 
seen some of them. Good day, sir." 

We looked at our watch. We had lost just 
half an hour over the new efficiency. We 
turned back with a sigh to our old-fashioned 
task. 



205 



WHO IS ALSO WHO 

A NEW POCKET 

DICTIONARY 



XL— Who Is Also Who. A Com- 
panion Volume to Who's Who 

Note by the Editor: / do not quarrel 
with the contents of such valuable compen- 
diums as "Who's Who," "Men and Women 
of the Time" etc., etc. But they leave out the 
really Representative People. The names that 
they include are so well known as to need no 
commentary, while those that they exclude are 
the very people one most wishes to read about. 
My new hook is not arranged alphabetically, 
that order having given great offence in certain 
social circles. 

SMITH, J. Everyman: born Kenoka 
Springs; educ. Kenoka Springs; pres- 
ent residence, The Springs, Kenoka; 
address, Kenoka Springs Post-Office; 
after leaving school threw himself (Oct. 1881) 
into college study; thrown out of it (April 
209 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

1882) ; decided to follow the law; followed it 
(1882); was left behind (1883); decided 

(1884) to abandon it; abandoned it; resolved 

(1885) to turn his energies to finance; turned 
them (1886) ; kept them turned (1887) ; un- 
turned them (1888); was offered position 
(1889) as sole custodian of Mechanics' Insti- 
tute, Kenoka Springs; decided (same date) to 
accept it; accepted it; is there now; will be till 
he dies. 

Flintlock, J. Percussion: aged 87; war 
veteran and pensioner; born, blank; educated, 
blank; at outbreak of Civil War sprang to 
arms; both sides; sprang Union first; entered 
beef contract department of army of U. S.; 
fought at Chicago, Omaha, and leading (beef) 
centres of operation during the thickest of the 
(beef) conflict; was under Hancock, Burnside, 
Meade, and Grant; fought with all of them; 
mentioned (very strongly) by all of them; 
entered Confederate Service (1864) ; attached 
(very much) to rum department of quarter- 
master's staff; mentioned in this connection 
(very warmly) in despatches of General Lee; 
210 



Who Is Also Who 



mustered out, away out, of army; lost from 
sight, 1 865-1 895; placed on pension list with 
rank of general, 1895; has stayed on, 1895- 
1915; obtained (on 6th Avenue) war medals 
and service clasps; publications — "My Cam- 
paigns under Grant," "Battles I have Saved," 
"Feeding an Army," "Stuffing the Public," etc., 
etc.; recreations, telling war stories; favorite 
amusement, showing war medals. 

Crook, W. Underhand: born, dash; par- 
ents, double dash ; educated at technical school ; 
on graduation turned his attention to the prob- 
lem of mechanical timelocks and patent safes; 
entered Sing-Sing, 1890; resident there, 1890- 
1893; Auburn, 1894, three months; various 
state institutions, 1 895-1 898; worked at pro- 
fession, 1 898-1 899; Sing-Sing, 1900; profes- 
sional work, 1 901; Sing-Sing, 1902; profes- 
sion, 1903, Sing-Sing; profession, Sing-Sing, 
etc., etc.; life appointment, 1908; general fa- 
vorite, musical, has never killed anybody. 

Gloomie, Dreary O'Leary : Scotch dialect 
comedian and humorist; well known in Scot- 
211 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

land; has standing offer from Duke of Suther- 
land to put foot on estate. 

Muck, O. Absolute: novelist; of low Ger- 
man extraction; born Rotterdam; educated 
Muckendorf ; escaped to America; long unrec- 
ognized; leaped into prominence by writing 
"The Social Gas-Pipe," a powerful indictment 
of modern society, written in revenge for not 
being invited to dinner; other works — "The 
Sewerage of the Sea-Side/' an arraignment of 
Newport society, reflecting on some of his best 
friends; "Vice and Super-Vice," a telling de- 
nunciation of the New York police, written af- 
ter they had arrested him; "White Ravens," 
an indictment of the clergy; "Black Crooks," an 
indictment of the publishers, etc., etc.; has 
arraigned and indicted nearly everybody. 

Whyner, Egbert Ethelwind: poet, at 
age of sixteen wrote a quatrain, "The Banquet 
of Nebuchadnezzar," and at once left school; 
followed it up in less than two years by a poem 
in six lines "America" ; rested a year and then 
produced "Babylon, A Vision of Civilization," 
three lines; has written also "Herod, a Trag- 
212 



Who Is Also Who 



edy," four lines; "Revolt of Woman," two 
lines, and "The Day of Judgement," one line. 
Recreation, writing poetry. 

Adult, Hon. Underdone: address The 
Shrubbery, Hopton-under-Hyde, Rotherham- 
near-Pottersby, Potts, Hants, Hops, England 
(or words to that effect) ; organizer of the 
Boys' League of Pathfinders, Chief Commis- 
sioner of the Infant Crusaders, Grand Master 
of the Young Imbeciles; Major-General of the 
Girl Rangers, Chief of Staff of the Matron 
Mountain Climbers, etc. 

Zfwinski, X. Z. : Polish pianist; plays all 
night; address 4,570 West 457 Street, West- 
side, Chicago West. 



213 



PASSIONATE 
PARAGRAPHS 



XII —Passionate Paragraphs 

{An extract from a recent {very recent) 
novel, illustrating the new beauties of lan- 
guage and ideas that are being rapidly devel- 
oped by the twentieth century press.) 

HIS voice as he turned towards her was 
taut as a tie-line. 
"You don't love me!" he 
hoarsed, thick with agony. She 
had angled into a seat and sat sensing-rather- 
than-seeing him. 

For a time she silenced. Then presently as 
he still stood and enveloped her, — 

"Don't!" she thinned, her voice fining to a 
thread. 

"Answer me," he gloomed, still gazing into- 
and-through her. 

She half-heard half-didn't-hear him. 
Night was falling about them as they sat thus 
217 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

beside the river. A molten afterglow of ir- 
idescent saffron shot with incandescent car- 
mine lit up the waters of the Hudson till they 
glowed like electrified uranium. 

For a while they both sat silent, — looming. 

"It had to be," she glumped. 

"Why, why?" he barked. "Why should it 
have had to have been or (more hopefully) 
even be to be? Surely you don't mean because 
of money?" 

She shuddered into herself. 

The thing seemed to sting her (it hadn't 
really). 

"Money!" she almost-but-not-quite-moaned. 

"You might have spared me that!" 

He sank down and grassed. 

• •••••• 

And after they had sat thus for another half- 
hour grassing and growling and angling and 
sensing one another, it turned out that all that 
he was trying to say was to ask if she would 
marry him. 

And of course she said yes. 



218 



WEEJEE THE PET DOG 



XIIL—Weejee the Pet Dog. An 
Idyll of the Summer 

WE were sitting on the verandah of 
the Sopley's summer cottage. 
"How lovely it is here," I said 
to my host and hostess, "and 
how still." 

It was at this moment that Weejee, the pet 
dog, took a sharp nip at the end of my tennis 
trousers. 

"Weejee ! I" exclaimed his mistress with great 
emphasis, "bad dog! how dare you, sir! bad 
dog!" 

"I hope he hasn't hurt you," said my host. 
"Oh, it's nothing," I answered cheerfully. 
"He hardly scratched me." 

"You know I don't think he means anything 
by it," said Mrs. Sopley. 

"Oh, I'm sure he doesn't," I answered. 
221 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

Weejee was coming nearer to me again as I 
spoke. 

"Weejee!!" cried my hostess, "naughty dog, 
bad!" 

"Funny thing about that dog," said Sopley, 
"the way he knows people. It's a sort of in- 
stinct. He knew right away that you were a 
stranger, — now, yesterday, when the butcher 
came, there was a new driver on the cart and 
Weejee knew it right away, — grabbed the man 
by the leg at once, — wouldn't let go. I called out 
to the man that it was all right or he might have 
done Weejee some harm." 

At this moment Weejee took the second nip 
at my other trouser leg. There was a short 
gur-r-r and a slight mix-up. 

"Weejee! Weejee!" called Mrs. Sopley. 
"How dare you, sir! You're just a bad dog! ! 
Go and lie down, sir. I'm so sorry. I think, 
you know, it's your white trousers. For some 
reason Weejee simply hates white trousers. I 
do hope he hasn't torn them." 

"Oh, no," I said; "it's nothing only a slight 



tear." 



222 



Weejee the Pet Dog 



"Here, Weege, Weege," said Sopley, anx- 
ious to make a diversion and picking up a little 
chip of wood, — "chase it, fetch it out!" and 
he made the motions of throwing it into the 
lake. 

"Don't throw it too far, Charles," said his 
wife. "He doesn't swim awfully well," she 
continued, turning to me, "and I'm always 
afraid he might get out of his depth. Last 
week he was ever so nearly drowned. Mr. 
Van Toy was in swimming, and he had on a 
dark blue suit (dark blue seems simply to in- 
furiate Weejee) and Weejee just dashed in 
after him. He don't mean anything, you know, 
it was only the suit made him angry, — he really 
likes Mr. Van Toy, — but just for a minute we 
were quite alarmed. If Mr. Van Toy hadn't 
carried Weejee in I think he might have been 
drowned. 

"By jove !" I said in a tone to indicate how 
appalled I was. 

"Let me throw the stick, Charles," continued 
Mrs. Sopley. "Now, Weejee, look Weejee — 
here, good dog — look! look now (sometimes 
223 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

Weejee simply won't do what one wants) , here, 
Weejee; now, good dog!" 

Weejee had his tail sideways between his 
legs and was moving towards me again. 

"Hold on," said Sopley in a stern tone, "let 
me throw him in." 

"Do be careful, Charles," said his wife. 

Sopley picked Weejee up by the collar and 
carried him to the edge of the water — it was 
about six inches deep, — and threw him in, — 
with much the same force as, let us say, a pen 
is thrown into ink or a brush dipped into a pot 
of varnish. 

"That's enough; that's quite enough, 
Charles," exclaimed Mrs. Sopley. "I thmk 
he'd better not swim. The water in the even- 
ing is always a little cold. Good dog, good 
doggie, good Weejee!" 

Meantime "good Weejee" had come out of 
the water and was moving again towards me. 

"He goes straight to you," said my hostess. 
"I think he must have taken a fancy to 
you." 

He had. 

224 



Weejee the Pet Dog 



To prove it, Weejee gave himself a rotary 
whirl like a twirled mop. 

"Oh, I'm jo sorry," said Mrs. Sopley. "I 
am. He's wetted you. Weejee, lie down, 
down, sir, good dog, bad dog, lie down!" 

"It's all right," I said. "I've another white 
suit in my valise." 

"But you must be wet through," said Mrs. 
Sopley. "Perhaps we'd better go in. It's get- 
ting late, anyway, isn't it?" And then she 
added to her husband, "I don't think Weejee 
ought to sit out here now that he's wet." 

So we went in. 

"I think you'll find everything you need," 
said Sopley, as he showed me to my room, 
"and, by the way, don't mind if Weejee comes 
into your room at night. We like to let him 
run all over the house and he often sleeps on 
this bed." 

"All right," I said cheerfully, "I'll look after 
him." 

That night Weejee came. 

And when it was far on in the dead of 
night — so that even the lake and the trees were 
225 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

hushed in sleep, I took Weejee out and — but 
there is no need to give the details of it. 

And the Sopleys are still wondering where 
Weejee has gone to, and waiting for him to 
come back, because he is so clever at finding 
his way. 

But from where Weejee is, no one finds his 
way back. 



226 






SIDELIGHTS ON THE 
SUPERMEN 



XIV. —Sidelights on the Supermen. 
An Interview with General 
Bernhardt. 

HE came into my room in that modest, 
Prussian way that he has, clicking 
his heels together, his head very 
erect, his neck tightly gripped in 
his forty-two centimeter collar. He had on a 
Pickelhaube, or Prussian helmet, which he re- 
moved with a sweeping gesture and laid on the 
sofa. 

So I knew at once that it was General Bern- 
hardi. 

In spite of his age he looked — I am bound 
to admit it — a fine figure of a man. There was 
a splendid fullness about his chest and shoul- 
ders, and a suggestion of rugged power all 
over him. I had not heard him on the stairs. 
He seemed to appear suddenly beside me. 
"How did you get past the janitc : k c i . 

229 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

For it was late at night, and my room at col- 
lege is three flights up the stairs. 

"The janitor," he answered carelessly, "I 
killed him." 

I gave a gasp. 

"His resistance," the general went on, "was 
very slight. Apparently in this country your 
janitors are unarmed." 

"You killed him?" I asked. 

"We Prussians," said Bernhardi, "when we 
wish an immediate access anywhere, always kill 
the janitor. It is quicker: and it makes for 
efficiency. It impresses them with a sense of 
our Furchtbarkeit. You have no word for that 
in English, I believe?" 

"Not outside of a livery stable," I answered. 

There was a pause. I was thinking of the 
janitor. It seemed in a sort of way — I admit 
that I have a sentimental streak in me — a de- 
plorable thing. 

"Sit down," I said presently. 

"Thank you," answered the General, but 
remained standing. 

"All right," I said, "do it." 
230 



Sidelights on the Supermen 

"Thank you," he repeated, without moving. 

"I forgot," I said. "Perhaps you can't sit 
down." 

"Not very well," he answered; "in fact, we 
Prussian officers" — here he drew himself up 
higher still — "never sit down. Our uniforms 
do not permit of it. This inspires us with a 
kind of Rastlosigkeit." Here his eyes glit- 
tered. 

"It must," I said. 

"In fact, with an Unsittlichkeit — an Unver- 
schamtheit — with an Ein-fur-alle-mal-un-dur- 
chaus " 

"Exactly," I said, for I saw that he was get- 
ting excited, "but pray tell me, General, to what 
do I owe the honour of this visit?" 

The General's manner changed at once. 

"Highly learned, and high-well-born-profes- 
sor," he said, "I come to you as to a fellow au- 
thor, known and honoured not merely in Eng- 
land, for that is nothing, but in Germany her- 
self, and in Turkey, the very home of Cul- 
ture." 

I knew that it was mere flattery. I knew 
231 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

that in this same way Lord Haldane had been 
so captivated as to come out of the Emperor's 
presence unable to say anything but "Sittlich- 
keit" for weeks; that good old John Burns had 
been betrayed by a single dinner at Potsdam, 
and that the Sultan of Turkey had been told 
that his Answers to Ultimatums were the wit- 
tiest things written since Kant's Critique of 
Pure Reason. Yet I was pleased in spite of 
myself. 

''What!" I exclaimed, "they know my works 
of humour in Germany?" 

"Do they know them?" said the General. 
"Ach! Himmel! How they laugh. That 
work of yours (I think I see it on the shelf 
behind you), The Elements of Political Sci- 
ence, how the Kaiser has laughed over it! And 
the Crown Prince! It nearly killed him!" 

"I will send him the new edition," I said. 
"But tell me, General, what is it that you want 
of me?" 

"It is about my own book," he answered. 
"You have read it?" 

I pointed to a copy of Germany and the Next 
232 



Sidelights on the Supermen 

War, in its glaring yellow cover — the very hue 
of Furchtbarkeit — lying on the table. 

"You have read it? You have really read 
it?" asked the General with great animation. 

"No," I said, "I won't go so far as to say 
that. But I have tried to read it. And I talk 
about it as if I had read it." 

The General's face fell. 

"You are as the others," he said. "They 
buy the book, they lay it on the table, they talk 
of it at dinner, — they say 'Bernhardi has 
prophesied this, Bernhardi foresaw that,' but 
read it, — nevermore." 

"Still," I said, "you get the royalties." 

"They are cut off. The perfidious British 
Government will not allow the treacherous pub- 
lisher to pay them. But that is not my com- 
plaint." 

"What is the matter, then?" I asked. 

"My book is misunderstood. You English 
readers have failed to grasp its intention. It 
is not meant as a book of strategy. It is what 
you call a work of humour. The book is to 
laugh. It is one big joke." 

*33 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"You don't say so!" I said in astonish- 
ment. 

"Assuredly," answered the General. "Here" 
— and with this he laid hold of the copy of the 
book before me and began rapidly turning over 
the leaves — "let me set it out asunder for you, 
the humour of it. Listen, though, to this, where 
I speak of Germany's historical mission on page 
73, — 'No nation on the face of the globe is so 
able to grasp and appropriate all the elements 
of culture as Germany is?' What do you say 
to that? Is it not a joke? Ach, Himmel, how 
our officers have laughed over that in Belgium ! 
With their booted feet on the mantelpiece as 
they read and with bottles of appropriated 
champagne beside them as they laugh." 

"You are right, General," I said, "you will 
forgive my not laughing out loud, but you are 
a great humorist." 

"Am I not? And listen further still, how I 
deal with the theme of the German character, 
— 'Moral obligations such as no nation had 
ever yet made the standard of conduct, are laid 
down by the German philosophers.' ' 
234 



Sidelights on the Supermen 
"Good," I said, "gloriously funny; read me 



some more." 



"This, then, you will like, — here I deal with 
the permissible rules of war. It is on page 
236 that I am reading it. I wrote this chiefly 
to make laugh our naval men and our Zeppelin 
crews, — *A surprise attack, in order to be justi- 
fied, must be made only on the armed forces of 
the state and not on its peaceful inhabitants. 
Otherwise the attack becomes a treacherous 
crime.' Eh, what?" 

Here the General broke into roars of 
laughter. 

"Wonderful," I said. "Your book ought 
to sell well in Scarborough and in Yarmouth. 
Read some more." 

"I should like to read you what I say about 
neutrality, and how England is certain to vio- 
late our strategical right by an attack on Bel- 
gium and about the sharp measures that ought 
to be taken against neutral ships laden with 
contraband, — the passages are in Chapters VII 
and VIII, but for the moment I fail to lay the 
thumb on them." 

235 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"Give me the book, General," I said. "Now 
that I understand what you meant by it, I think 
I can show you also some very funny passages 
in it. These things, for example, that you say 
about Canada and the colonies, — yes, here it 
is, page 148, — 'In the event of war the loosely- 
joined British Empire will break into pieces, 
and the colonies will consult their own inter- 
ests,' — excellently funny, — and this again, — 
'Canada will not permanently retain any trace 
of the English spirit,' — and this too, — 'the Col- 
onies can be completely ignored so far as the 
European theatre of war is concerned,' — and 
here again, — 'Egypt and South Africa will at 
once revolt and break away from the empire,' 
— really, General, your ideas of the British 
Colonies are superbly funny. Mark Twain 
wasn't a circumstance on you." 

"Not at all," said Bernhardi, and his voice 
reverted to his habitual Prussian severity, 
"these are not jokes. They are facts. It is 
only through the folly of the Canadians in not 
reading my book that they are not more widely 
236 



Sidelights on the Supermen 

known. Even as it is they are exactly the views 
of your great leader Heinrich Bauratze *' 

"Who?" I said. 

"Heinrich Bauratze, your great Canadian 
leader " 

"Leader of what?" 

"That I do not know," said Bernhardi. "Our 
intelligence office has not yet heard what he 
leads. But as soon as he leads anything we 
shall know it. Meantime we can see from his 
speeches that he has read my book. Ach! if 
only your other leaders in Canada, — Sir Rob- 
ert Laurier, Sir Osier Sifton, Sir Williams Bor- 
den, — you smile, you do not realize that in 
Germany we have exact information of every- 
thing: all that happens, we know it." 

Meantime I had been looking over the leaves 
of the book. 

"Here at least," I said, "is some splendidly 
humorous stuff, — this about the navy. 'The 
completion of the Kiel Canal/ you write in 
Chapter XII, 'is of great importance as it will 
enable our largest battleships to appear unex- 

237 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

pectedly in the Baltic and in the North Sea!' 
Appear unexpectedly! If they only would! 

How exquisitely absurd " 

"Sir!" said the General. "That is not to 
laugh. You err yourself. That is Furcht- 
barkeit. I did not say the book is all hu- 
mour. That would be false art. Part of it is 
humour and part is Furchbarkeit. That pas- 
sage is specially designed to frighten Admiral 
Jellicoe. And he won't read it I Potztau- 
sand, he won't read it I" — repeated the general, 
his eyes flashing and his clenched fist striking 
in the air — "What sort of combatants are these 
of the British Navy who refuse to read our 
war-books? The Kaiser's Heligoland speech! 
They never read a word of it. The Furcht- 
barkeit-Proklamation of August, — they never 
looked at it. The Reichstags-Rede with the 
printed picture of the Kaiser shaking hands 
with everybody, — they used it to wrap up 
sandwiches ! What are they, then, Jellicoe and 
his men? They sit there in their ships and 
they read nothing! How can we get at them 
if they refuse to read? How can we frighten 
238 



Sidelights on the Supermen 

them away if they haven't culture enough to 
get frightened. Beim Himmel," shouted the 
General in great excitement 

But what more he said can never be known. 
For at this second a sudden catastrophe hap- 
pened. 

In his frenzy of excitement the General 
struck with his fist at the table, missed it, lost 
his balance and fell over sideways right on 
the point of his Pickelhaube which he had laid 
on the sofa. There was a sudden sound as of 
the ripping of cloth and the bursting of pneu- 
matic cushions and to my amazement the Gen- 
eral collapsed on the sofa, his uniform sud- 
denly punctured in a dozen places. 

"Schnapps," he cried, "fetch brandy." 

"Great Heavens! General," I said, "what 
has happened?" 

"My uniform!" he moaned, "it has burst! 
Give me Schnapps!" 

He seemed to shrink visibly in size. His 
magnificent chest was gone. He was shrivel- 
ling into a tatiered heap. He appeared as he 
lay there, a very allegory and illustration of 

239 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

Prussian Furchtbarkeit with the wind going 
out of it. 

"Fetch Schnapps," — he moaned. 

"There are no Schnapps here," I said, "this 
is McGill University." 

"Then call the janitor," he said. 

"You killed him," I said. 

"I didn't. I was lying. I gave him a look 
that should have killed him, but I don't think 
it did. Rouse yourself from your chair, and 
call him " 

"I will," I said, and started up from my 
seat. 

But as I did so, the form of General Bern- 
hardi, which I could have sworn had been ly- 
ing in a tattered heap on the sofa on the other 
side of the room, seemed suddenly to vanish 
from my eyes. 

There was nothing before me but the empty 
room with the fire burned low in the grate, and 
in front of me an open copy of Bernhardi's 
book. 

I must, — like many another reader, — have 
fallen asleep over it. 

240 



THE SURVIVAL OF THE 
FITTEST 



XV.— The Survival of the Fittest 

A BELL tinkled over the door of the 
little drug store as I entered it; 
which seemed strange in a lighted 
street of a great city. 
But the little store itself, dim even in the 
centre and dark in the corners was gloomy 
enough for a country crossroads. 

"I have to have the bell," said the man be- 
hind the counter, reading my thought, "I'm 
alone here just now." 

"A toothbrush?" he said in answer to my 
question. "Yes, I guess I've got some some- 
where round here." He was stooping under 
and behind his counter and his voice came up 

from below. "I've got some somewhere " 

And then as if talking to himself he murmured 
from behind a pile of cardboard boxes, "I saw 
some Tuesday." 

Had I gone across the street to the brilliant 

243 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

premises of the Cut Rate Pharmaceutical where 
they burn electric light by the meterfull I 
should no sooner have said "tooth brush," than 
one of the ten clerks in white hospital jackets 
would have poured a glittering assortment over 
the counter — prophylactic, lactic and every 
other sort. 

But I had turned in, I don't know why, to 
the little store across the way. 

"Here, I guess these must be tooth brushes," 
he said, reappearing at the level of the counter 
with a flat box in his hand. They must have 
been presumably, or have once been, — at some 
time long ago. 

"They're tooth brushes all right," he said, 
and started looking over them with an owner's 
interest. 

"What is the price of them?" I asked. 

"Well," the man said musingly, "I don't 
— jest — know. I guess it's written on them 
likely," and he began to look at the handles. 

Over at the Pharmaceutical across the way 
the words "what price?" would have precipi- 
tated a ready avalanche of figures. 
244 



The Survival of the Fittest 

"This one seems to be seventy-five cents," he 
said and handed me one. 

"Is it a good tooth brush ?" I asked. 

"It ought to be," he said, "you'd think, at 
that price." 

He had no shop talk, no patter whatever. 

Then he looked at the brush again, more 
closely. 

"I don't believe it is seventy-five," he mut- 
tered, "I think it must be fifteen, don't 
you?" 

I took it from his hand and looked and said, 
—for it is well to take an occasional step to- 
wards the Kingdom of Heaven, — that I was 
certain it was seventy-five. 

"Well," said the man, "perhaps it is, my 
sight is not so good now. I've had too much 
to do here and the work's been using me up 
some." 

I noticed now as he said this how frail he 
looked as he bent over his counter wrapping up 
the tooth brush. 

"I've no sealing wax," he said, "or not 
handy." 

245 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"That doesn't matter/' I answered, u just 
put it in the paper." 

Over the way of course the tooth brush 
would have been done up almost instantane- 
ously, in white enamel paper, sealed at the end 
and stamped with a label, as fast as the money 
paid for it went rattling along an automatic 
carrier to a cashier. 

"You've been very busy, eh?" I asked. 

"Well, not so much with customers," he said, 
"but with fixing up the place," — here he glanced 
about him. Heaven only knows what he had 
fixed. There were no visible signs of it. 

"You see I've only been in here a couple of 
months. It was a pretty tough looking place 
when I came to it. But I've been getting things 
fixed. First thing I did I put those two carboys 
in the window with the lights behind them. 
They show up fine, don't they?" 

"Fine!" I repeated; so fine indeed that the 

dim yellow light in them reached three or four 

feet from the jar. But for the streaming light 

from the great store across the street, the win- 

246 



The Surereal of the Fittest 

dows of the little shop would have been in- 
visible. 

''It's a good location here," he said. Any 
one could have told him that it was the worst 
location within two miles. 

"I'll get it going presently/' he went on. 
"Of course it's uphill just at first. Being such 
a good location the rent is high. The first two 
weeks I was here I was losing five dollars a 
day. But I got those lights in the window and 
got the stock overhauled a little to make it at- 
tractive and last month I reckon I was only 
losing three dollars a day." 

"That's better," I said. 

"Oh, yes," he went on, and there was a clear 
glint of* purpose in his eye that contrasted with 
his sunken cheeks. "I'll get it going. This last 
two weeks I'm not losing more than say two 
and a half a day or something like that? The 
custom is bound to come. You get a place 
fixed up and made attractive like this and peo- 
ple are sure to come sooner or later." 

What it was that was fixed up, and wherein 
lay the attractiveness I do not know. It could 
247 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

not be seen with the outward eye. Perhaps 
after two months' work of piling dusty boxes 
now this way, now that, and putting little can- 
dles behind the yellow carboys to try the effect, 
some inward vision came that lighted the place 
up with an attractiveness wanting even in the 
glass and marble glitter of the Pharmacy across 
the way. 

"Yes, sir," continued the man, "I mean to 
stay with it. I'll get things into shape here, 
fix it up a little more and soon I'll have it," — 
here his face radiated with a vision of hope — 
"so that I won't lose a single cent." 

I looked at him in surprise. So humble an 
ambition it had never been my lot to encounter. 

"All that bothers me," he went on, "is my 
health. It's a nice business the drug business : 
I like it, but it takes it out of you. You've got 
to be alert and keen all the time ; thinking out 
plans to please the custom when it comes. 
Often I don't sleep well nights for the rush 
of it." 

I looked about the little shop, as gloomy and 
sleepful as the mausoleum of an eastern king, 
248 



The Survival of the Fittest 

and wondered by what alchemy of the mind the 
little druggist found it a very vortex of ac- 
tivity. 

"But I can fix my health," he returned — "I 
may have to get some one in here and go away 
for a spell. Perhaps I'll do it. The doctor 
was saying he thought I might take a spell off 
and think out a few more wrinkles while I'm 
away." 

At the word "doctor" I looked at him more 
warmly, and I saw then what was plain enough 
to see but for the dim light of the little place, 
— the thin flush on the cheek, the hopeful 
mind, the contrast of the will to live and the 
need to die, God's little irony on man, it was 
all there plain enough to read. The "spell" 
for which the little druggist was going is that 
which is written in letters of sorrow over the 
sunlit desolation of Arizona and the mountains 
of Colorado. 

A month went by before I passed that way 
again. I looked across at the little store and 
249 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

I read the story in its drawn blinds and the 
padlock on its door. 

The little druggist had gone away for a 
spell. And they told me, on enquiry, that his 
journey had been no further than to the ceme- 
tery behind the town where he lies now, mus- 
ing, if he still can, on the law of the survival of 
the fittest in this well-adjusted world. 

And they say that the shock of the addition 
of his whole business to the great Pharmacy 
across the way scarcely disturbed a soda siphon. 



250 



THE FIRST NEWSPAPER 



XVI — The First Newspaper. A 
Sort of Allegory 

HOW likes it you, Master Brenton?" 
said the brawny journeyman, 
spreading out the news sheet' on a 
smooth oaken table where it lay 
under the light of a leaded window. 

"A marvellous fair sheet," murmured Bren- 
ton Caxton, seventh of the name, "let me but 
adjust my glasses and peruse it further lest 
haply there be still aught in it that smacks of 
error." 

"It needs not," said the journeyman, " 'tis 
the fourth time already from the press." 

u Nay, nay," answered Master Brenton 
softly, as he adjusted his great horn-rimmed 
spectacles and bent his head over the broad 
damp news sheet before him. "Let us grudge 
no care in this. The venture is a new one and, 
meseems, a very parlous thing withal. 'Tis a 
253 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

venture that may easily fail and carry down our 
fortunes with it, but at least let it not be said 
that it failed for want of brains in the doing." 

"Fail quotha 1" said a third man, who had 
not yet spoken, old, tall and sour of visage and 
wearing a printer's leather apron. He had 
moved over from the further side of the room 
where a little group of apprentices stood be- 
side the wooden presses that occupied the cor- 
ner, and he was looking over the shoulder of 
Master Brenton Caxton. 

"How can it do aught else? 'Tis a mad 
folly. Mark you, Master Brenton and Master 
Nick, I have said it from the first and let the 
blame be none of mine. 'Tis a mad thing you 
do here. See then," he went on, turning and 
waving his hand, "this vast room, these great 
presses, yonder benches and tools, all new, yon- 
der vats of ink straight out of Flanders, how 
think you you can recover the cost of all this 
out of yonder poor sheets? Five and forty 
years have I followed this mystery of printing, 
ever since thy grandfather's day, Master Bren- 
ton, and never have I seen the like. What 
254 



The First Newspaper 



needed this great chamber when your grand- 
father and father were content with but a gar- 
ret place, and yonder presses that can turn off 
four score copies in the compass of a single 
hour, — Tis mad folly, I say." 

The moment was an interesting one. The 
speakers were in a great room with a tall ceil- 
ing traversed by blackened beams. From the 
street below there came dimly through the 
closed casements the sound of rumbling traffic 
and the street cries of the London of the sev- 
enteenth century. Two vast presses of such 
colossal size that their wooden levers would 
tax the strength of the stoutest apprentice, were 
ranged against the further wall. About the 
room, spread out on oaken chairs and wooden 
benches, were flat boxes filled with leaden type, 
freshly molten, and a great pile of paper, larger 
than a man could lift, stood in a corner. 

The first English newspaper in history was 
going to press. Those who in later ages, — 
editors, printers, and workers — have participa- 
ted in the same scene, can form some idea of 
the hopes and fears, the doubts and the difficul- 
*S5 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

ties, with which the first newspaper was ush- 
ered into the world. 

Master Brenton Caxton turned upon the last 
speaker the undisturbed look of the eye that 
sees far across the present into the years to 
come. 

"Nay, Edward," he said, "you have laboured 
over much in the past and see not into the fu- 
ture. You think this chamber too great for 
our purpose? I tell you the time will come 
when not this room alone but three or four 
such will be needed for our task. Already I 
have it in my mind that I will divide even this 
room into portions, with walls shrewdly placed 
through its length and breadth, so that each 
that worketh shall sit as it were in his own 
chamber and there shall stand one at the door 
and whosoever cometh, to whatever part of 
our task his business appertains, he shall forth- 
with be brought to the room of him that hath 
charge of it. Cometh he with a madrigal or 
other light poesy that he would set out on the 
press, he shall find one that has charge of such 
matters and can discern their true value. Or, 
256 



The First Newspaper 



cometh he with news of aught that happens in 
the realm, so shall he be brought instant to the 
room of him that recordeth such events. Or, if 
so be, he would write a discourse on what seem- 
eth him some wise conceit touching the public 
concerns, he shall find to his hand a convenient 
desk with ink and quills and all that he needeth 
to set it straightway on paper; thus shall there 
be a great abundance of written matter to our 
hand so that not many days shall elapse after 
one of our news sheets goes abroad before 
there be matter enough to fill another. ,, 

"Days!" said the aged printer, "think you 
you can fill one of these news sheets in a few 
days! Where indeed if you search the whole 
realm will you find talk enough in a single week 
to fill out this great sheet half an ell wide !" 

"Ay, days indeed!'' broke in Master Nicho- 
las, the younger journeyman. "Master Bren- 
ton speaks truth, or less than truth. For not 
days indeed, but in the compass of a single day, 
I warrant you, shall we find the matter withal." 
Master Nicholas spoke with the same enthusi- 
asm as his chief, but with less of the dreamer 
257 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

in his voice and eye, and with more swift eager- 
ness of the practical man. 

"Fill it, indeed/' he went on. "Why, Gad 
Zooks! man! who knoweth what happenings 
there are and what not till one essays the gath- 
ering of them! And should it chance that 
there is nothing of greater import, no boar 
hunt of his Majesty to record, nor the news of 
some great entertainment by one of the Lords 
of the Court, then will we put in lesser matter, 
aye whatever comes to hand, the talk of his 
Majesty's burgesses in the Parliament or any 
such things." 

"Hear him!" sneered the printer, "the talk 
of his Majesty's burgesses in Westminster, for- 
sooth! And what clerk or learned person 
would care to read of such ? Or think you that 
His Majesty's Chamberlain would long bear 
that such idle chatter should be bruited abroad. 
If you can find no worthier thing for this our 
news sheet than the talk of the Burgesses, then 
shall it fail indeed. Had it been the speech of 
the King's great barons and the bishops 'twere 
different But dost fancy that the great bar- 
258 



The First Newspaper 



ons would allow that their weighty discourses 
be reduced to common speech so that even the 
vulgar may read it and haply here and there 
fathom their very thought itself, — and the bish- 
ops, the great prelates, to submit their ideas 
to the vulgar hand of a common printer, fram- 
ing them into mere sentences ! 'Tis unthinkable 
that they would sanction it!" 

"Aye," murmured Caxton in his dreaming 
voice, "the time shall come, Master Edward, 
when they will not only sanction it but seek it." 

"Look you," broke in Master Nick, "let us 
have done with this talk? Whether there be 
enough happenings or not enough," — and here 
he spoke with a kindling eye and looked about 
him at the little group of apprentices and print- 
ers, who had drawn near to listen, "if there be 
not enough, then will I make things happen. 
What is easier than to tell of happenings forth 
of the realm of which no man can know, — some 
talk of the Grand Turk and the war that he 
makes, or some happenings in the New Land 
found by Master Columbus. Aye," he went 
on, warming to his words and not knowing 
259 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

that he embodied in himself the first birth on 
earth of the telegraphic editor, — "and why not. 
One day we write it out on our sheet 'The 
Grand Turk maketh disastrous war on the Bul- 
gars of the North and hath burnt divers of 
their villages.' And that hath no sooner gone 
forth than we print another sheet saying, 'It 
would seem that the villages be not burnt but 
only scorched, nor doth it appear that the Turk 
burnt them but that the Bulgars burnt divers 
villages of the Turk and are sitting now in his 
mosque in the city of Hadrian.' Then shall all 
men run to and fro and read the sheet and ques- 
tion and ask, 'Is it thus?' And, 'Is it thus?' 
and by very uncertainty of circumstances, they 
shall demand the more curiously to see the 
news sheet and read it." 

"Nay, nay, Master Nick," said Brenton, 
firmly, "that will I never allow. Let us make 
it to ourselves a maxim that all that shall be 
said in this news sheet, or 'news paper,' as my 
conceit would fain call it, for be it not made of 
paper (here a merry laugh of the apprentices 
greeted the quaint fancy of the Master), shall 
260 



The First Newspaper 



be of ascertained verity and fact indisputable* 
Should the Grand Turk make war and should 
the rumour of it come to these isles, then will 
we say 'The Turk maketh war/ and should the 
Turk be at peace, then we will say The Turk 
it doth appear is now at peace.' And should 
no news come, then shall we say 'In good sooth 
we know not whether the Turk destroyeth the 
Bulgars or whether he doth not, for while some 
hold that he harasseth them sorely, others have 
it that he harasseth them not, whereby we are 
sore put to it to know whether there be war or 
peace, nor do we desire to vex the patience of 
those who read by any further discourse on the 
matter, other than to say that we ourselves are 
in doubt what be and what be not truth, nor 
will we any further speak of it other than 
this.' " 

Those about Caxton listened with awe to 
this speech. They did not, — they could not 
know, — that this was the birth of the Leading 
Article, but there was something in the 
strangely fascinating way in which their chief 
enlarged upon his own ignorance that fore- 
261 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

showed to the meanest intelligence the possi- 
bilities of the future. 

Nicholas shook his head. 

" 'Tis a poor plan, Master Brenton," he said, 
"the folk wish news, give them the news. The 
more thou givest them, the better pleased they 
are and thus doth the news sheet move from 
hand to hand till it may be said (if I too may 
coin a phrase) to increase vastly its 'circula- 
tion' " 

"In sooth," said Master Brenton, looking at 
Nicholas with a quiet expression that was not 
exempt from a certain slyness, "there I do hold 
thou art in the wrong, even as a matter of craft 
or policie. For it seems to me that if our paper 
speaketh first this and then that but hath no 
fixed certainty of truth, sooner or later will all 
its talk seem vain, and no man will heed it. But 
if it speak always the truth, then sooner or later 
shall all come to believe it and say of any hap- 
pening, 'It standeth written in the paper, there- 
fore it is so.' And here I charge you all that 
have any part in this new venture," continued 
Master Brenton, looking about the room at the 
262 



The First Newspaper 



listening faces and speaking with great serious- 
ness, "let us lay it to our hearts that our maxim 
shall be truth and truth alone. Let no 
man set his hand to aught that shall go upon 
our presses save only that which is assured 
truth. In this way shall our venture ever be 
pleasing to the Most High, and I do verily be- 
lieve," — and here Caxton's voice sank lower 
as if he were thinking aloud, — "in the long run, 
it will be mighty good for our circulation." 

The speaker paused. Then turning to the 
broad sheet before him, he began to scan its 
columns with his eye. The others stood watch- 
ing him as he read. 

"What is this, Master Edward," he queried 
presently, "here I see in this first induct, or col- 
umn, as one names it, the word King fairly and 
truly spelled. Lower down it standeth Kyng, 
and yet further in the second induct Kynge, and 
in the last induct where there is talk of His 
Majesty's marvelous skill in the French game 
of palm or tennis, lo the word stands 
Quhyngge ! How sayeth thou?" 

"Wouldst have it written always in but one 
263 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

and the same way?" asked the printer in aston- 
ishment. 

"Aye, truly," said Caxton. 

"With never any choice, or variation to suit 
the fancy of him who reads so that he who likes 
it written King may see it so, and yet also he 
who would prefer it written in a freer style, or 
Quhyngge, may also find it so and thus both be 
pleased." 

"That will I never have!" said Master 
Brenton firmly, "dost not remember, friend, the 
old tale in the fabula of iEsopus of him who 
would please all men. Here will I make an- 
other maxim for our newspaper. All men we 
cannot please, for in pleasing one belike we run 
counter to another. Let us set our hand to 
write always without fear. Let us seek favour 
with none. Always in our news sheet we will 
seek to speak dutifully and with all reverence 
of the King his Majesty: let us also speak with 
all respect and commendation of His Majesty's 
great prelates and nobles, for are they not the 
exalted of the land? Also I would have it that 
we say nothing harsh against our wealthy mer- 
264 



The First Newspaper 



chants and burgesses, for hath not the Lord 
prospered them in their substances. Yea, 
friends, let us speak ever well of the King, the 
clergy, the nobility and of all persons of wealth 
and substantial holdings. But beyond this" — 
here Brenton Coxton's eye flashed, — "let us 
speak with utter fearlessness of all men. So 
shall we be, if I may borrow a mighty good 
word from Tacitus his Annals, of a complete 
independence, hanging on to no man. In fact 
our venture shall be an independent news- 
paper." 

The listeners felt an instinctive awe at the 
words, and again a strange prescience of the 
future made itself felt in every mind. Here for 
the first time in history was being laid down 
that fine, fearless creed that has made the inde- 
pendent press what it is. 

Meantime Caxton continued to glance his eye 
over the news sheet, murmuring his comments 
on what he saw, — "Ah! vastly fine, Master 
Nicholas, — this of the sailing of His Majesty's 
ships for Spain, — and this, too, of the Doge of 
Venice, his death, 'tis brave reading and maketh 
265 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

a fair discourse. Here also this likes me, 'tis 
shrewdly devised," and here he placed his finger 
on a particular spot on the news sheet, — "here 
in speaking of the strange mishap of my Lord 
Arundel, thou useth a great S for strange, and 
setteth it in a line all by itself whereby the mind 
of him that reads is suddenly awakened, 
alarmed as it were by a bell in the night. 'Tis 
good. 'Tis well. But mark you, friend Nicho- 
las, try it not too often, nor use your great let- 
ters too easily. In the case of my Lord Arun- 
del, it is seemly, but for a mishap to a lesser 
person, let it stand in a more modest fashion." 

There was a pause. Then suddenly Caxton 
looked up again. 

"What manner of tale is this ! What strange 
thing is here! In faith, Master Nicholas, 
whence hast thou so marvelous a thing! The 
whole world must know of it. Harken ye all 
to this ! 

" 'Let all men that be troubled of aches, spav- 
ins, rheums, boils, maladies of the spleen or 
humours of the blood, come forthwith to the 
sign of the Red Lantern in East Cheap. There 
266 



The First Newspaper 



shall they find one that hath a marvelous rem- 
edy for all such ailments, brought with great 
dangers and perils of the journey from a far 
distant land. This wonderous balm shall 
straightway make the sick to be well and the 
lame to walk. Rubbed on the eye it restoreth 
sight and applied to the ear it reviveth the hear- 
ing. 'Tis the sole invention of Doctor Gusta- 
vus Friedman, sometime of Gottingen and 
brought by him hitherwards out of the sheer 
pity of his heart for them that be afflicted, nor 
shall any other fee be asked for it save only 
such a light and tender charge as shall defray 
the cost of Doctor Friedman his coming and 
going.' " 

Caxton paused and gazed at Master Nicho- 
las in wonder. "Whence hadst thou this?'* 

Master Nicholas smiled. 

"I had it of a chapman, or travelling doctor, 
who was most urgent that we set it forth 
straightway on the press." 

"And is it true?" asked Caxton; "thou hast 
it of a full surety of knowledge?" 

Nicholas laughed lightly. 
267 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

"True or false, I know not," he said, "but 
the fellow was so curious that we should print 
it that he gave me two golden laurels and a 
new sovereign on the sole understanding that 
we should set it forth in print." 

There was deep silence for a moment. 

"He payeth to have it printed!" said Cax- 
ton, deeply impressed. 

"Aye," said Master Nicholas, "he payeth 
and will pay more. The fellow hath other 
balms equally potent. All of these he would 
admonish, or shall I say advert, the public." 

"So," said Caxton, thoughtfully, "he wishes 
to make, if I may borrow a phrase of Albertus 
Magnus, an advertisement of his goods." 

"Even so," said Nicholas. 

"I see," said the Master, "he payeth us. We 
advert the goods. Forthwith all men buy 
them. Then hath he more money. He payeth 
us again. We advert the goods more and still 
he payeth us. That would seem to me, friend 
Nick, a mighty good busyness for us." 

"So it is," rejoined Nicholas, "and after him 
others will come to advert other wares until 
268 



The First Newspaper 



belike a large part of our news sheet, — who 
knows? the whole of it, perhaps, shall be made 
up in the merry guise of advertisements." 

Caxton sat silent in deep thought. 

"But Master Caxton"- — cried the voice of a 
young apprentice, a mere child, as he seemed, 
with fair hair and blue eyes filled with the na- 
tive candour of unsullied youth, — "is this tale 
true!" 

"What sayest thou, Warwick?" said the mas- 
ter printer, almost sternly. 

"Good master, is the tale of the wonderous 
balm true?" 

"Boy," said Caxton, "Master Nicholas, hath 
even said, we know not if it is true." 

"But didst thou not charge us," pleaded the 
boy, "that all that went under our hand into 
the press should be truth and truth alone?" 

"I did," said Caxton thoughtfully, "but I 
spoke perhaps somewhat in overhaste. I see 
that we must here distinguish. Whether this is 
true or not we cannot tell. But it is paid for, 
and that lifts it, as who should say, out of the 
domain of truth. The very fact that it is paid 
269 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

for giveth it, as it were, a new form of merit, a 
verity altogether its own." 

"Ay, ay," said Nicholas, with a twinkle in 
his shrewd eyes, "entirely its own." 

"Indeed so," said Caxton, "and here let us 
make to ourselves another and a final maxim 
of guidance. All things that any man will pay 
for, these we will print, whether true or not, 
for that doth not concern us. But if one Com- 
eth here with any strange tale of a remedy or 
aught else and wishes us to make advertisement 
of it and hath no money to pay for it, then 
shall he be cast forth out of this officina, or of- 
fice, if I may call it so, neck and crop into the 
street. Nay, I will have me one of great 
strength ever at the door ready for such cast- 
ings." 

A murmur of approval went round the 
group. 

Caxton would have spoken further but at 
the moment the sound of a bell was heard 
booming in the street without. 

" 'Tis the Great Bell," said Caxton, "ringing 
out the hour of noon. Quick, all of you to 
270 



The First Newspaper 



your task. Lay me the forms on the press and 
speed me the work. We start here a great ad- 
venture. Mark well the maxims I have given 
you, and God speed our task." 

And in another hour or so, the prentice boys 
of the master printer were calling in the streets 
the sale of the first English newspaper. 



271 



IN THE GOOD TIME 
AFTER THE WAR 



XVII.— In the Good Time After 
the War"" 



HOUSE OF COMMONS REPORT 

f~ r^HE Prime Minister in rising said that 
he thought the time had now come 
-JL when the House might properly 
turn its attention again to domestic 
affairs* The foreign world was so tranquil 
that there was really nothing of importance 
which need be brought to the attention of the 
House. Members, however, would, perhaps, 
be glad to learn incidentally that a new and 
more comfortable cage had been supplied for 
the ex-German Emperor, and that the ex-Crown 
Prince was now showing distinct signs of intel- 
ligence, and was even able to eat quite quietly 
out of his keeper's hand. Members would be 
gratified to know that at last the Hohenzollern 
family were able to abstain from snapping at 

*An extract from a London newspaper of 191 6. 
275 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

the hand that fed them. But he would now 
turn to the subject of Home Rule. 

Here the House was seen to yawn notice- 
ably, and a general lack of interest was visible, 
especially among the Nationalist and Ulster 
members. A number of members were seen to 
rise as if about to move to the refreshment- 
room. Mr. John Redmond and Sir Edward 
Carson were seen walking arm in arm towards 
the door. 

The Prime Minister. "Will the members 
kindly keep their seats? We are about to hold 
a discussion on Home Rule. Members will 
surely recall that this form of discussion was 
one of our favourite exercises only a year or so 
ago. I trust that members have not lost inter- 
est in the subject." (General laughter among 
the members, and cries of "Cut it out!" "What 
isitr) 

The Prime Minister (with some asperity). 
"Members are well aware what Home Rule 
meant. It was a plan — or rather it was a 
scheme — that is to say, it was an act of parlia- 
ment, or I should say a bill, in fact, Mr. 
276 



In the Good Time After the War 

Speaker, I don't mind confessing that, not hav- 
ing my papers with me, I am unable to inform 
the House just what Home Rule was. I think, 
perhaps, the Ex-Minister of Munitions has a 
copy of last year's bill." 

Mr. Lloyd George rising ; with evident signs 
of boredom. "The House will excuse me. I 
am tired. I have been out all day aeroplaning 
with Mr. Churchill and Mr. Bonar Law, with 
a view to inspect the new national training 
camp. I had the Home Rule Bill with me 
along with the Welsh Disestablishment Bill 
and the Land Bill, and I am afraid that I lost 
the whole bally lot of them; dropped them into 
the sea or something. I hope the Speaker will 
overlook the term 'bally.' It may not be par- 
liamentary." 

Mr. Speaker {laughing). "Tut, tut, never 
mind a little thing like that. I am sure that 
after all that we have gone through together, 
the House is quite agreed that a little thing like 
parliamentary procedure doesn't matter." 

Mr. Lloyd George {humbly). "Still I am 
sorry for the term. I'd like to withdraw it. I 
277 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

am afraid I used, — I mean In the old days> — 
to be a little bit too harsh in my speech, too 
cutting." 

Chorus of Tory members. "No, no, never." 

Mr. Lloyd George. "It is kind of the mem- 
bers on the opposite side of the House — 
'{cries of 'order* 'order*). I beg the House's 
pardon, I had forgotten that under the new 
rule all the members sit together as they please. 
But I was going to say that, as to this business 
of Home Rule, I think the Speaker should ask 
Mr. Redmond and Sir Edward Carson what 
they think about it. Personally I don't care an 
army button about it either way." 

Sir Edward Carson {turning to Mr. Red- 
mond). "Will you speak first, John?" 

Mr. Redmond. "No, no, my dear Edward, 
you speak. I much prefer to listen to you. 
You've got a way of talking that I could never 
hope to imitate. I could listen to you all day." 

Sir Edward. "My dear old fellow I Talk 
of my oratory! Do you think I shall ever for- 
get, or any other Irishman ever forget, that 
speech you made in August of 19 14, when you 
278 



In the Good Time After the War 

said that, the man who would lift his hand 
against the British Empire must deal first with 
the united people of Ireland?" 

He clasps his hand. There is a moment of 
general emotion which is saved by the 
Speaker saying: { Will all the members kindly 
rise and sing ( Ifs a Long Way to Tipper ary'f 

The Speaker (after the song). "Sir Ed- 
ward, I think you had better say something. 
The House expects it." 

Sir Edward Carson. "In that case, Mr. 
Speaker, I want to say just this : I don't care 
and none of my constituents or supporters care, 
whether we have a Home Rule Parliament in 
Ireland or not. But after what IVe seen, and 
what IVe heard of the Irish Nationalists in 
the war; when I think of them in that first 
struggle of the Retreat; when I see them as they 
lined the trenches in Belgium, defiant of hard- 
ship, reckless of danger, heedless of life itself, 
so that the flag of the Empire might move but 
one yard further against the foe, then, I say 
this, that neither I nor any Irishman will con- 
sent to any measure of government that shall 
279 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

separate or distinguish in any degree the men 
of Ulster from the men of Tipperary, and the 
heart of Belfast from the heart of Dublin." 
(Loud cheers,) 

Mr. Redmond (springing forward). "And 
I'll say this: Not I, nor any man of Ireland, 
Dublin, Belfast, or Connaught will ever set 
our hands or names to any bill that shall sepa- 
rate Ireland in any degree from the rest of the 
Empire. Work out, if you like, a new scheme 
of government. If the financial clauses are in- 
tricate, get one of your treasury clerks to solve 
them. If there's trouble in arranging your ex- 
cise on your customs, settle it in any way you 
please. But it is too late now to separate Eng- 
land and Ireland. We've held the flag of the 
Empire in our hand. We mean to hold it in 
our grasp forever. We have seen its colours 
tinged a brighter red with the best of Ireland's 
blood, and that proud stain shall stay forever 
as the symbol of the unity of Irish and the 
English people." 

(Loud cheers ring through the House; sev- 
eral members rise in great excitement, all 
280 



In the Good Time After the War 

shouting and speaking together.) There is 
heard the voice of Mr. Angus McCluskey, 
Member for the Hebrides, calling — "And ye'll 
no forget Scotland, me lad, when you talk of 
unity ! Do you mind the Forty-Second, and the 
London Scottish in the trenches of the Aisne? 
Wha carried the flag of the Empire then? 
Unity, ma friends, ye'll never break it. It may 
involve a wee bit sacrifice for Scotland finan- 
cially speaking. I'll no say no to a reveesion 
of the monetairy terms, if ye suggest it, — but 
for unita — Scotland and the Empire, now and 
forever !" 

A great number of members have risen in 
their seats. Mr. Open Ap Owen Glendower is 
calling: "Aye and Wales! never forget Wales." 
Mr. Trevelyan Trendinning of Cornwall has 
started singing "And shall Trelawney Die?" — 
while the deep booming of "Rule Britannia" 
from five hundred throats ascends to the very 
rafters of the House. 

The Speaker laughing and calling for order, 
while two of the more elderly clerks are beat- 
ing with the mace on the table, — "Gentlemen, 
281 



Moonbeams from the Larger Lunacy 

gentlemen, I have a proposal to make. I have 
just learned that there is at the Alhambra in 
Leicester Square, a real fine moving picture 
show of the entrance of the Allies into Berlin. 
Let's all go to it. We can leave a committee of 
the three youngest members to stay behind and 
draw up a new government for Ireland. Even 
they can't go wrong now as to what we want." 
Loud Cheers as the House empties, singing 
"It was a Long Way to Tipperary, but the way 
lay through Berlin." 



THE END 



282 



Arcadian Adventures 

With the Idle Rich 

BY 

STEPHEN LEACOCK 

Author of "Nonsense Norels," "Sunshine Sketches," etc 

12mo Cloth $1.26 net 



"Mr. Leacock is always worth our while. He is a sharp- 
sighted, laughing philosopher." — New York Tribune. 

" Whoever reads it must laugh, particularly if he reads it aloud." 

— Boston Evening Transcript. 

"He is able to analyse subjects that loom large in our public 
life and to illuminate the weak points in them with flashes of 
satire which are the more telling in that they are entirely good- 
naturecL . . The characters are deliciously conceived. " 

— New York Evening Post. 

"Crisp conversation and paragraphs jammed with American 
sarcasm of the gilt-edged variety. . . Mr. Leacock penetrates the 
upper-class sham and satirizes it cheerfully. This is almost 
certain to generate little chuckles and long smiles from the intelli- 
gent proletarian who treats himself to these adventures." 

— Chicago Evening Post. 

"Every one of the sketches is clever, humorous, but never 
unkind. An analytical gift of character reading is one of the 
salient attributes of Mr. Leacock's style, and his present volume 
is one that will be seized with avidity and read with delight. " 

— Buffalo Express. 

"A master of keen, pointed satire, a lover of a good laugh, a 
writer capable of dexterously holding up to the light the foibles, 
weaknesses, craftiness and guile of his fellow man and woman, 
is this Stephen Leacock, and never before has he exemplified all 
this so patently, and withal so artfully, as in the present volume. " 

— Cleveland Town Topics. 



JOHN LANE COMPANY, Publishers, NEW YORK 



BOOKS BY STEPHEN LEACOCK 

BEHIND THE BEYOND 

AND OTHER CONTRIBUTIONS TO HUMAN KNOWLEDGE 

ILLUSTRATED BY A. H. FISH 

" In Mr. Stephen Leacock we have a humorist of very marked 
individuality. His new book, ' Behind the Beyond, ' is undeniably 
mirth-provoking. Dull must be the soul who does not find some- 
thing to laugh at in the five sketches called ' Familiar Incidents ' 
— visits to the photographer, the dentist, the barber, and so on. " 

— Boston Transcript. 

"Out of apparently very abundant experience of life both off 
and on the stage, Mr. Leacock has presented an uncommonly 
clever satire on the modern problem play and some short stories 
of familiar happenings that are treated with a delightful sense of 
humor." — Baltimore Sun. 



NONSENSE NOVELS 

"A knack of story telling, a gift of caricature, and a full sense 
of humor are displayed in these ten nonsense novels. " 

— Washington Star. 

"Even the most loyal admirers of Sherlock Holmes and his 
marvelous feats of induction and deduction will hardly grudge 
a smile of appreciation to Stephen Leacock. " — New York Sun. 

"Mr. Leacock bids fair to rival the immortal Lewis Carroll 
in combining the irreconcilable — exact science with perfect humor 
— and making the amusement better the instruction. " 

—Pall Mall Gazette. 



BOOKS BY STEPHEN LEACOCK 



LITERARY LAPSES 

"This book deserves a wide reading, for it is spontaneous, 
fresh, and unforced." — Chicago Tribune. 

"Philosophic humor, amusing and bubbling over with the 
froth of a delightful, good-natured cynicism." 

—Philadelphia Public Ledger. 

"Mr. Stephen Leacock is not only that very rare thing, a 
humorist, but that still rarer thing, a humorist in high spirits. 
A collection of good things which will entertain any human 
being who appreciates the humor of high spirits. The sketch 
entitled 'How to be a Doctor' no really serious medical student 
can afford to be without." — Onlooker (London). 



SUNSHINE SKETCHES OF A 
LITTLE TOWN 

"Humor, unspoiled by irony, satire, or even the gentlest 
raillery, characterizes this book. And few books are more 
suitably entitled, for these sketches do shed into the cracks 
and crannies of the heart glorious sunshine, the companion of 
pure mirth." — Chicago Record-Herald. 

"Mr. Leacock's fun is always good-natured, and therefore 
doubly enjoyable." — New York Times. 

"We cannot recall a more laughable book. "—Pall Mall Gazette. 




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